


At Least It Was Here

by PeppyDragon



Series: The Bucket List [3]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Eventual Torture, Eventual violence, F/M, Family Drama, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 19:28:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11447520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppyDragon/pseuds/PeppyDragon
Summary: (Part 3 of 4 in the Bucket List Series. Re-write and re-vamp of the 2012 original.  Originally posted on fanfiction.net)With the collector threat eradicated, Garrus takes Shepard to Palaven for some rest and relaxation while she finishes healing from her injuries. Not all members of the Vakarian family trust the human Spectre, however - especially when someone seems intent on hurting them all because of Shepard's presence.- Jane Shepard/Garrus Vakarian || Takes place between ME2 and ME3 -





	1. Bubble Toes

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything! 
> 
> The title song for this story is ["At Least It Was Here," by The 88.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcyY3LHp_T0)
> 
> The title song for this chapter is ["Bubble Toes," by Jack Johnson.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ALkmImu2fpc)
> 
> Please enjoy!

 

# 

"Shepard, I am pretty sure the last thing you need is another pair of sunglasses."  
  
Shepard glanced up from where she was flipping through her latest holo-catalog from one of her favorites retailers on Earth. "You make it sound like I spend all of my credits on them," she murmured good-naturedly before returning to the shimmering holographs.  
  
If there was one thing Garrus had learned to deal with, it was sunglasses. Shepard had an unhealthy penchant for buying expensive ones and then losing them within days. She always blamed Kasumi or Thane for stealing them, but that excuse began losing credibility very quickly. Especially now, seeing as almost everyone had abandoned ship at the Citadel.  
  
Garrus hummed something along the lines of, _yeah, right,_ as he moved around the cabin. He was anxious to see Palaven again; it had been a very long three years since he had last been home. His sister had just had a birthday a few weeks prior, which Garrus had missed – again. What was she now? Twenty-three? He smiled sadly to himself.  
  
And then there was his father. Garrus felt his heart sink a bit at the thought. The oldest living Vakarian male hadn't spoken with him very often since Garrus had joined up with the SR-I. In fact, the last time they had spoken, Garrus was begging his disapproving father for credits to help with Shepard's operation after the collector base. That had only been three weeks ago, but even now it felt like a lifetime.  
  
And then there was his mother.  
  
"Did you ever let Solana know we were on our way?" Shepard asked from where she lounged on her couch, still flicking through the catalog. Garrus was startled out of his thoughts and turned to glance in her direction. The items had changed from sunglasses to revealing lacy bras.  
  
"No," Garrus admitted, trying not to be distracted by her perusing. "I kind of hoped we could just spring ourselves on her and she would be too polite to say anything otherwise."  
  
Shepard looked up, frowning. "Garrus, we're less than a day away from Palaven and you're telling me your sister doesn't know we're coming? Or that we're planning on staying at her house?" Garrus' look of guilt made her sigh. "Then I guess we should see if your dad is willing to house us for a few days while we break the news to her."  
  
Garrus busied himself with feeding her fish, attempting to look calm. His attempts were in vain; Shepard honed in on his silence like a predator. "Garrus… you told your father we were on our way, right?"  
  
Garrus turned very slowly, meeting her steady gaze. "It might have slipped my mind."  
  
Shepard leaned back into the cushions, an eyebrow raised. "Slipped your mind. Really."  
  
Garrus sighed, moving toward the bed and calling up his omni-tool interface. "I'm calling Solana now."  


* * *

  
Solana met them at the spaceport, her arms folded tersely over her chest. Shepard had expected this to be a less than warm meeting; Garrus had warned her that his military family was not very pleased with his choices since meeting her.  
  
Nonetheless, she did not expect Solana's first words to be, "Well, I expected it to be taller," while sizing Shepard up. "And better dressed," Solana added, almost as an afterthought. Shepard forced herself to keep her chin up, ignoring the comment on her clothes. Although she had lathered up in the SPF 250, she still wore a pair of leggings and a long-sleeved N7 sweatshirt over a tank top. Even her hair was covered with a spare SR-2 cap she'd borrowed from Joker. After living on spaceships for the better part of fifteen years, Shepard knew radiation would not be kind to her largely unaffected skin.  
  
"Human females tend to be smaller and don't deal very well with solar radiation," Garrus hummed.  Shepard could sense the attempt at civility in his tone as he approached his sister.  He reached his hand out to her in what Shepard expected to be a handshake. Instead, after a few moments of silence from Solana, the female turian reached out and the pair grasped forearms. Shepard watched the exchange closely in case she was expected to follow it.  
  
Solana turned her cold, blue eyes to Shepard again and said, "I hear you are to be staying with us."  
  
Since it was not a question, Shepard only offered the turian a smile. "Thank you for your hospitality. I'm sorry for the short notice."  
  
Solana made a noise in the back of her throat.  “That’s more Garrus’ doing than yours, I am sure.  You, at least, seem to have some manners from what I’ve seen on the vids.”  She didn’t wait for a response before turning away. "Come along, Commander. We need to get you presentable before you meet my father."  
  
"Shepard looks fine," Garrus said, glancing over at Shepard to make sure she wasn't pulling her pistol. To his surprise, Shepard had a faint smile on her lips as she followed the turians through the hot, tropical air.  
  
Solana took another look at the commander before making a strangled, confused noise. "Humans are such strange looking things," she grumbled, leading the pair toward the hover lot.  


* * *

  
Shepard was slightly concerned that the Vakarians were attempting to give her radiation poisoning.  They had requested a table outside, _for the view,_ Solana had said.  And then Shepard was given the one seat in direct sunlight.

  
Not to mention the dress.  Shepard had attempted to talk Solana out of dressing her up, but it had been moot. Shepard found herself in a poorly fitting, strapless dress the color of plums. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the proportions were so obviously not human.  The chest was too big, the waist too small, and the cloth clung and bunched in the exact wrong places.  And it left her arms exposed to the hot sun.  
  
"So," Garrus' father, Castis Vakarian, began gruffly. "How did Garrus convince you to come to our planet?"  His eyes hadn’t risen from the holographic menu in the middle of the table.  
  
Garrus spoke up for her, clearing his throat. "Shepard has always wanted to see Palaven.  And, as you both know, it’s been... a while since I've been home. I wanted to see you both and… see how mom is doing."  
  
Solana sighed, her cool eyes turning to Shepard. "I assume Garrus told you about our mother?"  
  
Shepard felt her mind reeling. Garrus had never mentioned having a mother.  Shepard had assumed she was dead. There probably would have been something about her in Liara's Shadow Broker terminals, Shepard realized with a start.  But Shepard had felt guilty when she saw his name, his file of deep, dark secrets and extranet history.

She had refused to look in the files - out of fear or respect, she wasn’t sure.  They had been broken up at the time and Shepard hadn’t been sure that she could handle knowing what was going on in his life behind closed doors.  "No... Garrus hasn’t mentioned her."  
  
Garrus looked pained as his eyes met his sister's. "I was going to visit her alone."  
  
"Well, what for?" Solana groused, her eyes narrowing. "You bring your little _felairte_ and yet you don't want her to see mother? Embarrassed? Ashamed?" Solara pressed, tone becoming deeper. "Precious Shepard can't see what Corpalis Syndrome does to a turian?"  
  
Shepard's head swarmed with the words, trying to piece things together. _Felairte? Corpalis Syndrome?_ She tried to meet Garrus’ gaze but he was too busy staring at his sister, frozen.  
  
"Sol," Castis rumbled a low warning. "Remember that we are in public. We can't have a guest of our family feeling that this is how turians conduct dinners." He still hadn’t looked up from the menu, hadn’t even tried to meet Shepard’s gaze.  "Shepard, there are a few levo items here, but nothing fresh I would imagine."  
  
Shepard forced a smile. "That's fine, sir. I've been living on military ships for the past twelve years, so fresh is something I never became familiar with."  
  
"Military ship," Castis began.  He sounded like he had a lot to say on the matter but was attempting to choose his words carefully. "Yes, the Alliance was your home until you decided to join the Council, isn’t that right?"  
  
Garrus balked slightly, seeming to know where the conversation was heading and not liking it.  Shepard only nodded. "I was Alliance, yes. The Alliance thought my joining the Council Spectres would be… _beneficial…_ to humanity's standing within the galaxy."  
  
"Ah yes," Castis murmured, "beneficial. Do you mind if I ask you something else?  Something you probably don’t wish to discuss?"

Shepard took a deep breath and Garrus made a soft noise in the back of his throat.  “Dad, please-”

“Ask away, sir,” Shepard interjected.  She gently smoothed a hand over Garrus’ knee under the table, trying to soothe the panic she could tell was filling him.

“Why did you join Cerberus?  You obviously don’t believe in their _human first_ agenda.”

And there it was. Shepard closed her eyes briefly, trying to collect her thoughts. She wasn't surprised that the old soldier knew all about her history with Cerberus. More than likely he had followed her career very closely when his son's life became entangled with hers.  
  
"Dad-" Garrus began again.  
  
"Son, let her answer the question."  
  
Shepard mentally counted backward from ten before replying, "It was the best option at the time, sir. Unfortunately, the Alliance was not investigating the human colony abductions. I just wanted to save as many lives as I could."  
  
"By superseding the Alliance, the Citadel, and due process," Castis added.  He didn’t sound mad, exactly, just disappointed.    
  
Garrus growled low in the back of his throat and Shepard grabbed his hand under the table, attempting to calm him. "You're right," Shepard said simply. "I turned against the very rules I served from the day I enlisted at eighteen. The Alliance has every right to track me down and slap me in irons, to try me, to execute me. And if it comes to that, then I will hold my head high. Because even though I bent the rules, I did what I thought was right."  
  
Solana's slender, almost nonexistent, mandibles flickered in what appeared to be surprise.  Castis sat back in his chair, finally meeting her gaze.  “I am pleased you were able to stop the abductions,” he finally said.

Solana let out a small breath and flipped through the holo menu, seeming relieved but also keen on changing the subject away from Shepard and her shortcomings.  “Let’s figure out food, I’m starving.”    


* * *

  
The night air was cool and crisp on her face as Shepard strolled along the dark sand beach that bordered Solana's small home. She could tell that the evening would be her favorite time while on Palaven. The sight of its gorgeous sunset was enough to write poetry about; not to mention the fact that, without the sun, Shepard didn't have to worry about solar radiation seeping into her skin.  
  
She was still wearing the frumpy purple frock Solara had dressed her in, but she had removed her shoes in order to feel the cold granulates between her toes. She could hear Garrus behind her, his gait less silent than hers as he crossed the glassy, smooth sand. She glanced over her shoulder, offering him a faint smile. "Well. That was fun."  
  
Garrus chuckled, crossing the distance between them in order to pull her close. "Alone at last," he whispered, ducking his face low in order to brush his mouth against her bared neck. The salty sea breeze tugged tendrils of hair out of her bun, making them whip through the air and fill it with sweet vanilla.  
  
Shepard felt her heartbeat quicken as he kissed along her neck. "Garrus, your sister."  
  
"My sister is in bed by now," he returned softly. "No one will be out this late."  
  
"What does _felairte_ mean?" Shepard asked suddenly, pulling away enough to meet his eyes with hers.  "And what about your mother? Corpalis Syndrome? What is that? Why didn't you tell me about your mom?" she pressed, her voice becoming less amused as she continued.  
  
Garrus opened his mouth to begin answering her onslaught of questions when Solana's voice filtered through the chilly air. "Garrus? Shepard?"  
  
Garrus groaned, pulling away from Shepard as he caught sight of Solana gracing toward them. She finally drew next to them, looking slightly annoyed. "I sincerely hope you two don't plan on wandering around out here all night. It's getting cold."  
  
"We were just coming inside," Garrus reassured her gently. "Where will we be sleeping?"  
  
Solana snorted. "You're on the couch. I just bought a strange human bed and have it all made up in the spare room for you, Shepard.  It’s an old thing and squeals like a pyjak in heat, but it will do."  
  
"Solana, you really didn’t have to go to so much trouble for me," Shepard said quickly, surprised and touched by the gesture. "I’ve slept on more floors than I can count. But I appreciate it, really.  Your hospitality is staggering… especially since you didn’t know we were going to be here until yesterday."  
  
Solana shrugged. "Well, I couldn't leave my bumbling brother and his commander out in the cold." She glanced down then, taking in the sight of Shepard's bare feet. " _Spirits,_ what are _those?"_  
  
Shepard glanced down, alarmed. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary she mumbled, "What? My toes?" She wiggled them for emphasis.  
  
"Ungh, you humans are strangely made," she whispered, shaking her head. She turned, still murmuring to herself, and led them toward her home.


	2. Exactly Where We're From

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
>  **Chapter Warning:** SMUT!
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["Exactly Where We're From," by Mirah.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hfLgnA-Ux7c)
> 
> Please enjoy!

Shepard was startled awake by what sounded like stampeding krogan crashing into her bedroom door. Shepard was quick to pull the covers up around her mostly naked body, her underwear doing little to hide her skin from view.   
  
The door, however, was still closed. There were no signs of anyone trying to come through it, either.  Shepard took a moment to calm her breathing before she ventured out of the bed and toward her small duffle bag. She shuffled through it for a moment before procuring a simple black tank top, a pair of jeans, and the same N7 hoodie she'd worn the day before.   
  
She dressed quickly, running a brush through her hair while popping a toothpaste tablet into her mouth. Right as she was pulling her long hair into a high ponytail, a knock resounded from her door.   
  
"Shepard? You up?"   
  
Shepard smiled, moving to the door and opening it. Garrus stood there, looking very at home in a thin pair of linen pants and matching tunic. "Good morning," she said with a smile, turning to make the small bed.   
  
"You seem refreshed and relaxed," Garrus hummed, sounding amused. "I take it the bed was a bit more accommodating than the couch."   
  
Chuckling, Shepard pulled the thin sheets and comforter back into some semblance of tidiness. "It was a pretty comfortable bed. Jealous?"   
  
"Jealous doesn't even begin to come close," Garrus grinned, moving behind her and running a talon along her back.  “I was most upset that we weren’t together… in those sheets.”   
  
Shepard shuddered at the touch, turning to him with a mock frown. "Garrus, behave," she chided playfully, turning back to the bed to fluff her pillow. "We are in your sister's house and I sincerely doubt she'd like where this is going."   
  
"Going?" Garrus asked, voice innocent. He gripped her sides, pulling her into him. She went without any resistance, her body melting against his. "I don't know what you mean."  With her back pressed against his chest, he reached out with his free hand, caressing over her neck, hand dropping to her collarbone, and then dipping lower under the soft cotton of her tank top.   
  
"Garrus?"   
  
Garrus cursed as Solana's voice drifted through the air. "I think she has a radar that goes off whenever I am going to do something fun."   
  
Shepard groaned, her head lolling back against his cowl. "No kidding. But we should respect the fact that this is your sister's house… and she probably doesn't know what we do in private. Or want to know, for that matter," Shepard added quickly.   
  
"Garrus! Get out here!" Solana's voice was losing patience.   
  
Garrus took a deep breath, his mandibles flaring wide before coming to rest with a clack against his face. "I am thinking we need to add _ 'find a vacation home far away from other Vakarian family members' _ to our list of to-dos."   
  
Shepard snorted, detangling herself from Garrus and stepping out of the bedroom. She sauntered down the hallway barefoot until the wide passage opened into a large, airy living room. The living room was done in white and pale blues.  It was very beachy and very modern - the furniture was low-backed with strange, angular edges. Shepard had a feeling this was the kind of place Miranda would feel completely at home in.   
  
"Shepard," Solana greeted as she bustled out of the kitchen. "I stopped by the market this morning and managed to find some levo things. I have no idea what I got, of course, so I hope something there is edible. And if not, pretend it is because I'm not going back."   
  
Shepard tried to keep from laughing and instead nodded. "Of course, Solana. Thank you."   
  
"Oh, and I put the varren outside – Chakute and Radi. You probably heard them destroying half the house this morning. They're mostly harmless, they just get overly excited sometimes.  Or throw tantrums, so.... Garrus!" She cried out again, making Shepard wince.   
  
Solana huffed a quick, "Sorry, Shepard," before calling out, "Garrus! I swear I will peel your plates off if you don't – oh, there you are. About time. There are three garflac eggs on the stove – turn them and then let them roast for another two minutes. I already had my breakfast, so they're all yours."   
  
"Thanks, sis," Garrus murmured, moving out of her way as she sauntered down the hallway – toward her bedroom if Shepard had to guess.   
  
The kitchen counter was strewn with things that Shepard recognized, but only barely. There was a container of almonds, which was easy enough to distinguish. There was also a bag of something that Shepard guessed had been nectarines three weeks ago – now they were misshapen, lumpy things stinking of tangy, overripe juice. There were also a few boxes of cereal but no milk.   
  
Garrus glanced over the human food before letting out a comical sigh. "You know, Shepard, I'm not big on the levo foods, but I am pretty sure those are not safe to eat."   
  
Garrus was pointing to a pair of bruised apples that were hidden behind the nectarines. Shepard smiled, reaching out and grabbing the apple. "No, these are fine. Just banged up."   
  
And then she felt something wiggling against her hand.   
  
Shepard let out a shriek – one that she would later deny – and dropped the apple, letting it roll across the white tile floor. Garrus was howling with laughter, his voice flanging heavily as he gripped the counter to keep himself upright.   
  
"What in the holy hell was that?" Shepard exclaimed, rubbing her hand over her jeans.   
  
Garrus grabbed the apple, turning it so that Shepard could see better. There was a large, rather vicious looking spider who had built a funnel-like web around the stem of the apple. The spider looked intent on hanging onto his produce home; he even reached out his front feelers in what Shepard swore looked like a threat.   
  
"That," Garrus began, still chuckling, "is why I didn't think it was safe."   
  
"You could have explained yourself before I ate something that could probably eat me back," Shepard grumbled, going to the stove and glancing down at the pan of strangely colored eggs. "Didn't Solana say to flip these?"   
  
It was Garrus' turn to grumble as he tossed the apple into what Shepard guessed was a trash chute. He moved to the stove, taking a flat utensil and flipping the eggs over expertly. "I remember Chakwas mentioning you aren't fond of needles."   
  
Shepard blinked, sure she had missed part of the conversation. "Um… I hate them. But what do needles have to do with your eggs?"   
  
Garrus shook his head, chuckling. "Nothing. Needles have to do with the clinic we're going to stop by this morning."   
  
"Clinic?" Shepard repeated, suspicious. "What for?"   
  
"The researchers down at Cipritine Medical have been testing a new experimental drug for you fleshy things so you don't erupt into boils under our solar radiation," he explained, voice amused. "I figured you might want to give it a shot."   
  
"Experimental, huh?" Shepard asked, unsure how she felt about that.   
  
"It's safe enough," Garrus began before adding, "or, at least, that's what I hear. No adverse side effects yet, other than something about photosensitivity."   
  
Shepard grinned sneakily. "Good thing I brought a few pairs of sunglasses."   
  


* * *

  
Garrus failed to mention the other side effects – mainly the intense pain and swollen node that formed around the injection point on her hip. Shepard moaned as she held an ice pod to the wound and the turian physician chuckled.   
  
"The great Commander Shepard brought to her knees by a little needle," he chortled good-naturedly.   
  
Shepard gritted her teeth past the pain. "Are you sure this thing isn't going to turn me into a lizard or something?"   
  
"Commander, the only thing you might notice is slight toughening if your epidermis and a need for moisturizers. Now, the shot I gave you only lasts for a week, so if you plan on staying longer you'll need to come see me again within six days."   
  
"So I am free to run around without jackets or jeans?" Shepard pressed.   
  
The physician looked extremely amused. "Of course, Shepard. You are now almost fully protected from solar radiation. As with anything, though, I would, of course, advise you practice precautions. Don't run around naked," he added.   
  
"Well damn, my week is ruined," Shepard returned with a grin. She slid off of the examination table, which was much taller than she was accustomed to, and pulled up her omni-tool interface. "How much do I owe you, doc?"   
  
The doctor held up his hands, shaking his head. "It was my pleasure, Commander. There are few humans I admire. I am glad to see you like our kind so much that you're willing to honeymoon on our homeworld."   
  
Shepard blinked in confusion. "Honeymoon?"   
  
It was the physician's turn to blink. "Isn’t that your term for it?”

“It is a term for the vacation after getting married, but that doesn’t apply here.”

“Oh… Oh!”  He seemed embarrassed, his mandibles flaring over and over again.  “I’m sorry…. I just thought you and Vakarian.... Your faces were all over the feeds a few years back, and now you're here.  I take it there was no bonding ceremony?"

Shepard chuckled, moving to the door. "Not while I was conscious, anyway."   
  


* * *

  
Garrus had gotten his old hovercar out of storage and drove them to an ancient rock quarry. The pair spent the afternoon hiking down the grooves of metallic rock, hopping from one crumbling ridge to another.   
  
The sun beat down on their heads, but Shepard could barely feel the heat. She glanced down to her bare forearm and noticed that the skin had developed an odd, crisscross pattern, much like snakeskin. "Garrus," she called to where the turian was ducking in and out of rock gullies, "you never told me that shot was going to turn me into a drell!"   
  
Garrus glanced back toward her, his voice amused. "Really? A drell? I guess I should warn Kasumi that she has competition with Thane."   
  
Shepard rolled her eyes and focused on making her way safely to the bottom of the quarry. "This would be a hell of a lot easier if we had the Mako!" she called out, feeling her breath beginning to catch.   
  
"A hell of a lot easier for you to tear up the scenery," Garrus agreed with a laugh.   
  
By the time the sun was setting, Shepard found herself completely out of breath, her legs weak. "Damn, how am I this out of shape?" she gasped.   
  
Garrus was breathing a little heavily, as well. "Not out of shape. Look," he pointed up toward where they had left the car. Shepard turned, looking up – and all she could see was jutting rock.   
  
"Goddamn, Garrus, how deep is this thing?" she asked, sinking down onto the dark rock.   
  
"Just shy of ten kilometers," he returned, sounding pleased.   
  
Shepard let out a string of curses. "Well, no wonder I feel like I just had my ass charged by a battalion of krogan. This damn thing is deeper than the Grand Canyon!"   
  
Garrus looked at her curiously, to which she waved off his questioning with, "It's a canyon. It's really grand."   
  
Garrus snorted, shaking his head. "Well, I bet your Grand Canyon doesn't have water at the bottom of it."   
  
Shepard grinned, biting her lower lip. "It kinda does, though. A whole river."   
  
Garrus would not be put out, however. "Well, I bet our basin of rainwater is a million times better than your river."   
  
"Pissing contest between a rainwater basin and a river?" Shepard teased, pulling herself to her feet finally. "The river is so going to win." She glanced around, seeing nothing but more metallic, sharp rocks. "Where is this supposed basin, anyway?"   
  
Garrus reached out and took her hand, leading her further toward the middle of the quarry. The ground abruptly cut off, leaving them standing at the edge of a cliff. Below them was a gorgeous expanse of cobalt water shimmering in the slowly sinking sun.   
  
"Oh my God," Shepard breathed, mesmerized.   
  
Garrus' mandibles flickered in pride. "We’re going down, right?" he asked softly, motioning toward a thin pathway winding downward.   
  
"How deep is the water?" Shepard asked, transfixed.   
  
Garrus shrugged. "Not sure exactly. Anywhere between thirty to fifty meters. All depends on how recent the last rainfall was. Why?"   
  
Shepard grinned, shaking her head. She reached for the hem of her tank top, beginning to pull it up and over her head. Garrus chuckled, reaching out and stroking a talon across the flat expanse of her stomach. The mass of scar tissue from her injuries and surgeries just months prior were shining a healthy, pearly pink. "Here I thought I would have to seduce you down by the water," he began, voice husky.   
  
Shepard laughed, tossing her tank top at him. "Oh, I'm not taking this off for you," she began silkily, sliding out of her jeans and hooking them over his arm. "I'm going to jump."   
  
Garrus looked appropriately shocked. "Shepard, I don't think that's a good-"   
  
Shepard nudged her shoes off, then her socks, before moving backward a few paces. She then gave Garrus a dazzling smile. "Hey, what's the harm? You'll pull me out if something happens, right?"   
  
Garrus opened his mouth to retort when Shepard looked away and began sprinting toward the edge of the cliff. "Shepard! _ Fuck,  _ I can't swim!" he yelped anxiously, trying to reach out to grab her.   
  
Shepard was too fast. She streaked right over the side of the cliff in her underwear, screaming in delight the whole way down.   
  


* * *

  
"That was stupid," Garrus grumbled for what had to be the fiftieth time that night.   
  
"Mmmm," Shepard moaned, curling against his warm plates as they lay under the stars. "It was fun. You should try it sometime."   
  
"Throwing myself off a cliff?"   
  
"Fun," Shepard retorted with a grin, kissing his scarred mandible.   
  
Garrus chuckled, pulling her on top of him, murmuring, "I can think of something else fun we can do… out here, all alone, no sister barging in…."   
  
Shepard smirked and reached behind her, the sound of her bra unsnapping echoing in the deep quarry. "I think you read my mind."

She reached back to gently caress her hands over his abdominal plates, coaxing his cock to slide out between the seams and into her hand.  She stroked him to life in mere moments and he angled his legs, giving her a perfect valley to sit in.  

She grinned at him before slowly lifting herself up and then lowering on top of him.

Garrus let out a string of words that Shepard’s translator didn’t know.  She took the time to enjoy the purr of his voice, the slight trill of his arousal. She raised and lowered herself on top of him slowly, groaning as he gripped her thighs with his cropped talons, the buffed edges biting into her skin without cutting.

They hadn’t been intimate since Shepard had gotten out of the hospital.  Garrus had insisted she took some extra time to heal before they got physical.  He had the best intentions - their unions were usually full of biting and harsh thrusting.  

But this was softer.  He caressed his hands over her skin lovingly, purring when she leaned down to kiss him, gasping when her fingers found the sensitive spot under his fringe and massaged it. He licked her neck, her collar bone, the scar from his bite mark on her breast.  He sucked her nipples into his mouth, switching between them, making her cry out softly, back arching.

It didn’t take long for Garrus to begin panting.  He gripped her hips tightly, grunting, “I need you to come.”

Shepard smirked at him.  “I need you to come.  Inside me.  Now.”  

And then her passage tightened around his cock so suddenly, and so tightly, that stars erupted across his vision and he orgasmed in a rush, guttural noises spilling from his throat. 

Garrus gasped as he came down, still gripping Shepard’s hips tightly.  He released her once his thoughts had calmed and whispered, “Get on your back.”

“Garrus-”

“I told you I needed you to come,” he whispered, his tone deliciously dark.  “Now get on your back.”

She did as she was told and Garrus lowered himself between her legs, lapping at their combined wetness coating her sex. He drank her in, sure that he would never be able to drink her in, to feel her above him or below him, without thanking every spirit there was for bringing her back to him.  For letting her live.  For giving him these chances to be with her.

Shepard was groaning and bucking her hips against his face within minutes, her fingers scrabbling across the top of his head.  “Right there,” she panted as his long tongue found the bundle of nerves inside her passage.  “Oh _ God,  _ Garrus, right-”

Her climax was strong and ripped a yelp from her throat, followed by a series of low, deep groans.  He licked up all of her liquids that he could before curling beside her on the hard rocks, pulling her into him.  

They laid under the stars, breathing deeply of the muggy air.


	3. Young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> **Chapter Warning:** Light Sexual Situation. 
> 
> The chapter's title song is ["We Are Young," by Fun.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sv6dMFF_yts) Please enjoy!

The varren were not very fond of Shepard. She wasn't sure why, seeing as most animals adored her. The two males watched her suspiciously as she walked through the house, however, and even went as far as to growl when she got too close for their liking.   
  
And Shepard had been left behind to babysit them.   
  
She sighed, sinking down onto one of the uncomfortable couches with its odd turian divots and angles, watching the varren as they began dozing in the sunlight that splashed through the large picture windows. Once she was sure they had fallen into a fitful sleep, she quietly moved toward the enormous vid screen that presided over most of the wall. Under it was slender data discs, something Shepard had not seen since basic training vids.   
  
Data discs were the precursor to entirely electronic recording and, for the most part, considered worthless.  _ Whatever is on these must be really important,  _ Shepard thought, fingers brushing across the covers of all of the discs. She paused on one that her translators picked up as  _ Garrus –  5. _   
  
Shepard glanced at the time on her omni-tool. It was only a little after 1100 – Garrus and Solana didn't expect to be back from visiting their mother until after noon.   
  
"That means I have time to watch these," she mused, grinning as she looked for the ancient disc player. She fiddled with the controls for a while, finally getting the thing to boot up and accept the tiny disc. She slid back onto the couch, earning an annoyed growl from the varren closest to her.   
  
The vid picked up immediately, showing a beautiful dark sand beach that looked surprisingly similar to the very one Solana lived on. A small turian child, Garrus, toddled around on the sand, darting after small crabs and gathering shells. The shells he brought back to a female turian who sat on the sand.   
  
Shepard's eyes widened as she looked on the face of Garrus and Solana's mother. The woman's coloring was remarkably pale, the tan color holding a rosy sort of sheen beneath her blue face paint. She was laughing in what Shepard could only guess was maternal joy. Shepard watched as the Vakarian matriarch collected her giggling child into her arms, cuddling him close and brushing her cheek against his small head.   
  


* * *

  
Garrus held his mother's hand, trying to swallow past the pain of seeing her like this. His once beautiful, strong mother was reduced to lying in a hospital bed. Idania Vakarian was little more than a bag of bones inside a metallic carapace.   
  
"It's good to see you, Garrus," she stammered out, her jaw catching on some of the vowels. The hand Garrus held was laced with tremors from the decomposing nerves.   
  
"I've missed you," he said softly, trying his best to speak past the lump in his throat. "You know there isn't a day that goes by when I don't think of you."   
  
His mother smiled and, even though her mandibles twitched without her meaning them to, it was still radiant to see. "I know, son. I wish you could stay.  We all miss you so much when you are away having your little adventures."  She chuckled, but the chuckles turned into coughs.   
  
"I'll be here for a while," Garrus offered, eyes searching his mother for any sign of improvement. Any sign that the new medications and tests were working. He didn't like what he saw. She looked exactly the same as she had before he'd left for the Citadel. The only difference was now she was sickeningly thin and the tremors came on stronger.   
  
Solana stepped into the room, putting a hand on their mother's shoulder. "Mom, we have to get going. The doctors need to give you some injections, okay?"   
  
Idania nodded, her hand releasing Garrus'. "You should come back tomorrow. Bring Jane," she added, something like her old self twinkling in her cool, green eyes.   
  
Garrus glanced at Solana who didn’t seem surprised at the request. He hadn't been aware she knew that Shepard had come to Palaven.  "Mom, how did you know-"   
  
Idania chuckled, drawing her blankets closer around her frail body. "Your father still visits. He told me your  _ felairte  _ had been hurt badly and that you would both come here for rest."   
  
Garrus chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, he told you right.  She was in the hospital for a few months - lots of surgeries, lots of pain.”  He cleared his throat, realizing too late that his mother had been in the hospital for three years now, dying in terrible pain.  He was sure she would jump at the chance to have surgeries if it would save her life.  “I'll see you tomorrow. And maybe Shepard will come with me."   
  
Idania nodded, seeming pleased. "She's very strong, this commander of yours. She has to be, to impress you."   
  


* * *

  
Solana keyed in the passcode to the front door, the entrance opening into the living room. Chakute and Radi had somehow managed to get into the bag of nectarines Solana had picked up for Shepard, and now the pungent mess of pulp and juice was squished into the cracks and crevices of the white tile floor.   
  
Solana let out a huff of air in annoyance, opening her mouth to yell for Shepard.   She then noticed a slender, fleshy arm hanging over the side of the couch. She stepped closer and found Shepard asleep and clutching a decorative pillow to her chest.   
  
And then Solana noticed that the vid screen was on.  She curiously stepped close to the screen and then saw the opened data disc container. She smiled faintly, somewhat amused that Shepard had busied herself with watching old home movies the others in the family had no interest in.   
  
Garrus finally made it in through the door, grumbling loudly about the poor drivers on Palaven. "I never thought I'd say it," he continued, "but these damn drivers give Illium a run for its money. How many times did we narrowly avoid an accident?  It’s like everyone on Palaven went through driver’s training with Shepard."   
  
Shepard awoke with a start, sitting up quickly, taking in everything around her. "Shit, I'm sorry Solana," Shepard murmured, wiping her face. "I must have fallen asleep. The varren were good, though, they didn't get into-"   
  
Solana waved her off. "They got into your food but luckily they don't look dead, so I guess you're off the hook. Once you clean the floor, that is," she added, popping the data disc out of the player and into its case. "So, what'd you think if mini Garrus? Cute, huh? I wonder what happened."   
  
Garrus looked wholly confused. "What?"   
  
"The old data discs," Shepard admitted, looking a bit embarrassed. "I got bored and saw one of you…" she trailed off before adding gently, "and your mom. She's lovely."   
  
Solana groaned. "Spirits, if you two are going to have some mushy, soul-searching conversation, do it while you clean. I am going outside with the varren." She made an odd clicking noise, to which the varren reacted instantly. The three went out the back door and toward the beach, leaving Garrus and Shepard alone.   
  
"How is she?" Shepard asked softly.   
  
Garrus knew she meant his mother. He didn't answer right away; instead, he went into the kitchen to find rags. Wetting the cloths, he tossed one toward Shepard before leaning down to the tile and beginning to wipe up the mess.   
  
"She's weakening," he answered finally. "She's just a ghost of how I remember her."   
  
"What is Corpalis Syndrome?" Shepard asked gently, coming to help him with the fruit destruction cleanup.  She knew she could have looked it up, but she wanted to hear it from Garrus, give him an opportunity to talk if he needed it.   
  
It took Garrus a moment to respond. "It only affects turians. We don't know much about it, how it's contracted.  All we know is that it targets the nervous system. She can't walk because she gets unbalanced, she has trouble talking, and it sounds like things have gotten worse with her heart and lungs. She's just…."  He broke off, feeling the panic that took over in the hospital return. "She's falling apart, Shepard. And there's nothing I can do. Pretty soon, her memory is going to start failing."   
  
"Garrus, I'm so sorry," Shepard murmured, reaching out to stroke the side of his face with her palm. "I… I can't even imagine how bad this must feel."   
  
"Yeah," he chuckled humorlessly. "I… I was scared to see her. That's what I haven't come back in so long."   
  
"But you finally did. That's all that matters," Shepard murmured, focusing on getting the nectarine mess off of the floor.   
  
"I suppose," Garrus agreed. After a few moments, he added in a much more jovial tone, "You know, if it isn’t too weird for you, Mom mentioned wanting to meet you. Dad told her you were here."   
  
Shepard glanced up, her smile hesitant. "She wants to meet me in order to meet me, or to make fun of my weird hair and weak skin?"   
  
Garrus chuckled, finishing wiping the floor. "Shepard, you have to wonder where I get my charming personality and sharp good looks from," he teased, moving to the kitchen and cleaning off the dirty rag.   
  
Shepard smiled, going to join him at the sink, bumping his leg with her hip.  “Of course I want to meet her. Having half the family on my side isn't a bad set of odds."   
  
Garrus turned and grabbed her by the waist, hoisting her up onto the countertop. "Half the family? Don't let Solana fool you, she likes you.  You would be in tears all day if she didn’t."   
  
Shepard grinned, kissing Garrus' forehead.  “Three out of four ain’t bad.”  And then she added, “What does  _ felairte  _ mean?”

Garrus chuckled, pressing his face into her neck.  “It means exotic love.  It’s used when turians find long-term companions from another species.”

“Exotic love,” Shepard repeated, rolling the words around in her mouth.  She grinned and pressed her lips against his mandible.  “I like this  _ felaitre  _ term.”

The back door opened and Radi and Chakute scurried in. If it hadn't been for the scarcity of items in the spartan home, the brothers would have probably torn the entire place apart with their wide, loping gaits.

Solana sauntered into the kitchen. She made a strange noise when she saw Shepard on the counter. "Shepard, it was nice of you to attempt cleaning the counter for me. But I would ask that you do so with a cloth and not your backside."   
  
Shepard bit back a laugh and slid off of the counter. "Sorry, Solana. My mistake." She washed off her previous rag before running it along the counter.   
  
"Garrus," Solana continued, her voice a bored drawl, "I forgot to tell you that I ran into some of your old squad from the Telliun days. They've docked for shore leave and want you to come to a party tonight."   
  
"Party?" Garrus repeated, looking intrigued. "Wait… who did you run into, exactly?"   
  
Solana smirked, leaning one of her wide hips against the cabinet. "Why does that matter? I am sure Shepard would love to meet some career soldiers while she's here. See what the turian military is all about. Or, at least, a turian military shore leave."   
  
"Whoever is at the party depends on whether we go or not," Garrus said dryly.   
  
Solana let out a little huff. "Well fine. I saw Fecl and Adronea. They said some others would be down at the Gorge… and they wanted me to tell you to bring Shepard."   
  
Garrus' mandibles quivered. "How did they know about Shepard?"   
  
Solana threw her hands up in the air. "Seriously, Garrus? A human ship docked here. You're home. And I heard that you two went out to Cipritine yesterday - from a complete stranger in the market, no less. So, honestly, the word has traveled rather slowly, don't you think?"   
  
"Well, we aren't going," Garrus grumbled.   
  
"Why not?" Shepard and Solana asked at the same time. The female turian's mandibles wiggled and she looked strangely triumphant. "See?  Shepard wants to go. Take her out and stop stepping on my talons."   
  
Garrus grumbled something darkly before nodding toward Shepard. "Well, you'd better go get changed, it will probably be kind of cold for you tonight."   
  
Shepard grinned, exiting the kitchen and making her way toward her bedroom in order to redress. A turian party was probably nothing like the human ones she had attended when she was young, but she was going to attempt to have the best time possible.   
  


* * *

  
The Gorge overlooked a sweeping area of gorgeous hillocks and a winding, massive river. Hover cars had started to collect in a patch of sandy shrub-grass and a small group of turians was already imbibing in multi-colored vials of drink.   
  
"I should probably warn you ahead of time," Garrus began softly as the exited his car, "that Andronea will be very…interested… in you. And me. And us."   
  
Shepard cocked an eyebrow. "And Andronea is who, exactly?"   
  
Garrus exhaled heavily. "Remember the recon officer I told you about?"   
  
"The sparring-turned-fucking recon officer?" Shepard smirked.   
  
Garrus closed his eyes, probably counting to ten. "Right… her."   
  
Shepard grinned. "Well. This  _ will _ be fun. So, should I tell her I'm your sex slave or are we playing at being friends tonight?"   
  
Garrus shook his head, his voice coming out annoyed. "You know I don't want either of those things. I'm not embarrassed if they know we’re together."  Even so, he was becoming more nervous with every step that brought them closer to the group.   
  
"Don't worry, Garrus," Shepard chuckled, bumping his hip with hers. "If they start shit, you can always shoot them."   
  


* * *

  
Shepard could drink turians under the table.   
  
This was something that had always been infinitely amusing to Garrus. It was even more so now as he watched her match Andronea, shot-for-shot.   
  
To his utter surprise, Andronea had been nothing but humorous and good-natured toward Shepard. The two were practically inseparable, although the soldier competition was strong between the two of them. They had already run sprints to see who was faster - Shepard, surprisingly - arm-wrestled to see who was stronger - Andronea, naturally - and were now taking shots.   
  
Finally, Andronea slammed her glass down, half of the pink liquid still inside. Shepard downed her blue drink, slamming it down and raising her arms. "I believe we have a winner!" she crowed.   
  
The soldiers were laughing and clapping. Garrus felt a childish sense of pride at how easily they all accepted her. Shepard was getting to her feet and stumbled, the alcohol evidently impairing her movements more than she expected. Garrus reached out, grabbed her arm and steadied her against him – much to everyone else's amusement.   
  
"So Garrus, at what point did you start looking at the baby humans?" one of the officers called out, the other chortling around him.   
  
Shepard smirked, steadying herself before releasing Garrus. "Flexibility might have had something to do with it," she said simply before turning and sauntering over to where the river rushed past.   
  
The soldiers all laughed and whooped, even Andronea. "Garrus, what's it like with a human?" one of them questioned, his dark eyes twinkling in the starlight.   
  
"Yeah, are they really that soft all over?" another asked, seeming confused.   
  
"I'm just wondering how it fits in – those humans are so small!"   
  
Andronea made a face. "Alright, usually I don't bring this up, but you're in the presence of a lady."   
  
"I don't see any," another chuckled, making the others erupt into laughter.   
  
Garrus was smiling and shaking his head. "Sorry, boys, I don’t kiss and tell.  I guess you’ll have to find your own  _ felairte _ ."   
  
"Tease," one of them grumbled.   
  


* * *

  
Shepard and Garrus got back to Solana's house to find the door unlocked for them. They stumbled in, both having much more to drink than advisable. Shepard was giggling as she flopped onto the couch, her hair dark against the white cushions.   
  
Garrus collapsed on the floor near the couch, glancing over to where Chakute and Radi were watching them curiously from their beds. "The varren think we've lost our minds."   
  
"The varren hate me," Shepard added with a giggle, rolling so that she could see Garrus. "Hey. Are you tired?"   
  
"Exhausted," he admitted, glancing back toward her. "Why?"   
  
Shepard only grinned, rolling off the couch and landing solidly onto Garrus. She straddled his waist, making quick work of pulling off his tunic. "Oh, I just thought we could do a little something… but if you are too tired…."  Without waiting for a response, she began pulling his pants down with one hand, unbuttoning hers with the other.   
  
Garrus knew she was drunk and he was drunk and this was, in no way, a good idea. They were in his sister's house, there were two varren staring at them, and spirits only knew if he remembered to lock the front door –   
  
And then Shepard caressed his plates, his cock, and began moving above him.  All of his misgivings were gone in seconds - he even almost forgot not to lean his head back in the very real danger of breaking his fringe.  He balanced himself on his elbows, watching her move, admiring the curve of her body in the moonlight.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, making her chuckle breathily.  Her hips were making small, soft circles as she rose and fell on top of him.  Garrus slid her shirt off, making Shepard groan loudly, and then fumbled with her bra, unhooking it and reaching up with a hand to fondle her.   
  
And then all hell broke loose. The varren were suddenly launched into a frenzy, running around the house and making a strange, keening wail while smashing headlong into walls and doors.   
  
Solana was in the living room within seconds, a gun in hand.  She took one look at the dogs, then Garrus and Shepard, and winced. "Spirits, you two!  Chakute, Radi, heel!"   
  
The varren were instantly slinking back to their beds, heads hung low. Solana moved toward the back door, opening it up and ushering the varren outside. She then closed the door heavily, sighing.   
  
Shepard watched this all while still straddling Garrus. "Um… I, ah… I'm sorry?"   
  
After a few moments of silence, Garrus began laughing. The sound was so strange, especially given his current state of undress, that Shepard was extremely alarmed by it. Solana, too, began giggling, which made Shepard feel all the more confused.   
  
Solana finally gasped out, "I warned you they can be set off at any time.  Evidently, that includes people having sex on my floor." This made the siblings laugh even harder. Shepard sat, dumbfounded at Solana’s lack of annoyance.   
  
"Spirits, that was exciting," Solana mused. She glanced back at the pair and added, "By the way, I would appreciate all of your extracurricular activities to happen somewhere other than my living room. Or countertop. So scrub down the tile when you're done and we'll pretend this never happened."   
  
Before she left, though, her eyes studied Shepard's bare torso, analyzing, making Shepard clear her throat uncomfortably.  Solana hummed and murmured, "I can kind of see the appeal, I guess." She then turned around, still chuckling, and headed back to bed.  


	4. Bella Luna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["Bella Luna," by Jason Mraz.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mB4hZMSiwTw) Please enjoy!

Garrus spent a good part of the morning helping Solana in the kitchen. Shepard, as far as he knew, was still passed out in bed, probably nursing a hangover the size of Tuchanka. 

Solana had picked up a levo recipe book, as well as ingredients, and was currently in the process of making homemade bread. Garrus helped as best as he could, which pretty much meant grabbing strange ingredients after double-checking what they looked like on his omni-tool and wiping down the countertop.

"Well this was a nice gesture," Garrus began, trying to gauge his sister's reason for going out of her way for Shepard.   
  
Solana shrugged a broad shoulder, which was covered with a thin top and frilly apron. It was very strange to see his sister in the pink covering; she had never been overly feminine. "I noticed she is too thin is all. Didn't want her telling people turians aren't gracious hosts."   
  
"Right," Garrus hummed, wiping flour from the counter. "You know what I think?"   
  
"I am sure you're going to tell me," Solana groused, sliding the pan of bread into the oven.   
  
"I think you like her," Garrus said with a satisfied tone. Solana only huffed, which made Garrus continue. "She impresses you."   
  
"I'm impressed by any woman who makes it as far in life as that one has," Solana said simply and she closed the oven, standing to face her brother. "Humans are such childish things; sexism and racism and xenophobia… Not Shepard, though. She has a strong heart and moral compass. Not to mention, she isn't even Alliance anymore, and yet her crew – including you – followed her. No captain that I served under during my tours won my affection enough to face down collectors at their side under the same circumstances."   
  
Garrus' mandibles flared in surprise. "You knew?  About the collectors?"   
  
Solana cocked her head to the side. "Garrus, you might not know this, but father keeps very close tabs on you – and Shepard, by default. He's an influential man, he gets whatever information he needs. So yes, we knew about the Omega-4 Relay. We knew about the collector base." She paused, glancing out the window toward the ocean. "Why do you think I was so short with you on our last call? The one right before your suicide jump through the Relay?"   
  
Garrus glanced at his feet. "I… I didn't realize you knew."   
  
Solana threw her hands into the air, her voice filled with anger. "And why in Spirits' names didn't you tell me? Don't you think I would have liked to know my big brother was risking his life for us? For everyone?"   
  
"I didn't want to worry you," he grumbled, the words feeling hollow and stupid.   
  
"Well, I worry anyway. All of us worry," she added, voice lowering.   
  
Garrus reached out and his sister came to him, hugging him close. "I'm sorry, Sol."   
  
Solana shook her head against his shoulder. "It's fine, Garrus. You're here and you're whole… and you won't go off rescuing the galaxy without telling us again, right?"   
  
"Right," he chuckled, pulling back from her. "Now, how do we make this ice cream stuff you were talking about?"   
  


* * *

  
Shepard's headache was not as horrible as she had expected. She did wake up much later than usual, however. The sun streaming through her open window was already hot and well into its trek across the sky.   
  
Shepard pulled herself into wakefulness, fighting off the groggy effects of last night's drinking. She grabbed some clothing, ran a brush through her hair, and then realized something.   
  
The bathroom didn't have a shower.   
  
Shepard bit her lip, trying to rationalize the new development. She knew Garrus could go into the shower, seeing as they had been in one together on more than one occasion. However, she never saw him actually  _ use  _ a shower.   
  
Did turians bathe? Did they need to bathe?   
  
Flummoxed, Shepard wandered out into the living room where Solana and Garrus were sitting on the floor, running some sort of lotion into Chakute and Radi's skin.   
  
Solana glanced up first. "Ah, the princess emerges. How did you sleep?"   
  
"Like a rock," she admitted. "Um, do you have a shower by chance?"   
  
Solana chuckled, her small mandibles wiggling. "Well… we do have one, but since turians don't bathe like you humans do… it's outside. For getting the sand off after being on the beach."   
  
Shepard felt her brain attempting to process the implications. "So… no privacy screen, I take it?"   
  
Solana shook her head, still seeming amused. "No. I'm sure Garrus could attempt to block you from view. If it's any consolation, people are rarely out at this time of day."   
  
Shepard let out a small sigh, making the turians laugh. Garrus finished rubbing Chakute – or Radi - down with the lotion and stood. "I'll grab some linens and we can make an enclosure for you. It won't be pretty, but it will work."   
  
"Thank you," Shepard murmured, feeling like a child.   
  
"Oh, and when you're done showering," Solana murmured, also getting to her feet, "Garrus and I took it upon ourselves to slave away in a hot kitchen, preparing your food."  At Shepard's surprise, Solana shrugged. "Nothing special, mind you. Just things to make… uh…." Solana struggled with the word for a moment. "Sand… witches?"   
  
Shepard smiled, choosing not to correct her. "You really didn't have to do that, Solana."   
  
Solana shrugged. "What can I say, I'm the best host – best turian, even." And with that, Solana wandered toward her room and left Shepard waiting for Garrus.   
  


* * *

  
The cold outdoor shower, the homemade sandwiches, and the amicable company of Garrus and his sister left Shepard feeling lazy and content. She helped Solana clean the dishes – she and Garrus had munched on oddly colored fruit, saying they ate a large breakfast – and then Garrus murmured, "Well, how does visiting my mom sound?"   
  
Shepard nodded, although the anxiety she felt rising in her belly was hard to dispel. "Sure. Should I dress differently?" She wasn't sure if her shorts and tee shirt were appropriate for meeting family.   
  
Solana snorted. "Mom doesn't care how you're dressed, Shepard. No matter what you wear, you're still going to look like an odd fleshy thing."   
  
"Thanks," Shepard chuckled. She turned to Garrus, offering him a hesitant smile. "I'm ready when you are."   
  
Of course, she was not ready. She wasn't sure she ever could be. Shepard had known that Garrus' father wouldn't like her – she hadn't been too concerned about meeting him, other than bracing herself for a verbal onslaught.   
  
Meeting a parent who was a complete unknown was the challenge.   
  
Garrus drove them to the hospital. The tall, glistening building was bustling with turians and salarians, both doctors and patients. There was even a small handful of krogan in the lobby as they entered the cool, marble-floored building.   
  
"Some of the salarian doctors here have been searching for cures for the genophage," Garrus informed her. "They take infected tissue samples and run tests on them here. Some of the turian doctors help."   
  
"It's amazing, seeing them working together to cure something they caused," Shepard murmured in an undertone as they stepped into an elevator with a few turian orderlies. "But I suppose time begins to heal all wounds."   
  
"Not necessarily," Garrus returned. "It's going to take a hell of a lot more than some sympathetic doctors and scientists to placate the krogan. Maybe a miracle. Or another war."   
  
The pair exited the elevator on the twelfth floor. The salarian nurse at the reception desk glanced up and offered the two a small smile. "Garrus, good to see you back. This must be Commander Shepard. Your mother has been telling us that you two would visit today."   
  
Garrus chuckled, sounding a bit embarrassed. "You know Mom… she gets excited."   
  
The nurse nodded, her smile still in place. "You can go on in. She just finished up her midday snack, but she's been very excited to see you both. She'll need some shots in an hour, though."   
  
Garrus nodded. "I understand. Thank you."   
  
Garrus led the way down the hall and into a room filled with sunlight. The room was obviously for an extended stay - it looked more like an apartment than a hospital room. The wraparound windows' plum drapes were pulled, letting the light spill in. There were soft violet rugs, a few plush white chairs, and even a table for human chess.   
  
The large bed that dominated the room was laden with plush pillows and a lilac quilt. Idania Vakarian was sitting up in bed, a very old, crumbling book in hand. She glanced up to see them and her mandibles flared as widely as they could. She put her book into her lap, spreading her arms in welcome.   
  
"Garrus! And this is Jane?"   
  
Shepard stepped up to the bed, her smile genuine as she reached out to the woman, gently holding one of her hands. "It is a pleasure to meet you."   
  
The turian's hand was still full of power in spite of the tremors. She squeezed Shepard's hand, letting out happy little twitters. "Jane, you are just as lovely as on the vids."   
  
Shepard felt her cheeks flare with heat. She had never been called lovely by a turian other than Garrus. It was a startling thing to hear. Nevertheless, she smiled, murmuring, "Thank you. You don't look nearly old enough to be Garrus' mother, though. Surely you're his sister?"   
  
Idania chuckled, patting Shepard's hand. "You're a flatterer. No wonder Garrus likes you." She glanced over to the window again, her face radiating joy. "Jane, one of the orderlies here is human. He got me that chess set. He has been teaching me, but I'm not so good yet. Do you play?"   
  
"Poorly, but I know how," Shepard admitted with a smile. "Would you like to play a game?"   
  
Idania glanced over at Garrus as if asking if he minded. Garrus watched two of the most important women in his life talk like old friends, his mandibles clicking in happiness. He nodded, murmuring, "I think you're in for a beating, Shepard. Try to go easy on her, Mom, okay?"   
  


* * *

  
"What'd you think of her?" Garrus asked as they reentered the car an hour and a half later.   
  
"She's sweet. A lot like you, but without as much pomp," Shepard teased.   
  
"I take offense to that," Garrus chuckled. "I may be pompous, but only because I am the best."   
  
"Mmhmm," Shepard murmured, leaning back into her seat, grinning. "Where to?"   
  
Garrus shrugged. "I had something in mind. Something I think you will appreciate."   
  
"Yeah?" Shepard asked, looking intrigued. "What would that be?"   
  
"You'll just have to see when we get there," he said simply, his eyes glinting with excitement. "But to give you a hint – it is better than driving a Mako."   
  
Shepard's eyes were gleaming now. "Oh really?" She glanced ahead of them and at the open skyway, feeling excitement rushing through her veins.    
  
Shepard was practically bouncing her feet on the floorboard by the time they parked outside of Ouror Sporting Exhibition. "Garrus, does this involve driving?"   
  
"Yes," Garrus chuckled. "It involves driving. Come on, they'll need our credentials. Let's hope the Alliance didn't blacklist you from rental vehicles after all those Mako stunts."   
  
The pair entered the shop, which was filled to the brimming with mining and other outdoor activities that Shepard didn't recognize. Garrus went up to the counter. "I reserved two of the all-terrain rovers. We were thinking of taking them out for the night."   
  
The turian behind the counter glanced over at Shepard, his mandibles flaring. "A human? On a rover?"   
  
Garrus nodded patiently. "She's driven Makos. She can handle a rover."   
  
The turian let out a sigh and nodded. "All right, but I need credentials. Place your right hands to the scanner, one at a time."   
  
Garrus did so, taking his glove off and watching as the small machine beeped an affirmative. Shepard strode over and did the same; another beep of confirmation. At this one, however, the turian behind the counter made an odd noise. "Shepard? I thought you were dead."   
  
Shepard smiled. "I get that a lot."   
  
The turian handed them both a key and nodded toward the back door. "The two rovers are all charged and ready. The black one and the blue one, both Mantis makes. You have thirty-six kilometers of dunes and cliffs to throw yourselves off of. Any damage to the Mantis' means your deposit you paid is non-refundable. Return them here by 0600, drop the keys in the slot by the front door. We do have a camera with time stamps – if you don't get them back by then, you lose your deposit."   
  
Garrus nodded. "Got it."   
  
The turian looked at Shepard one last time as if sizing her up. "There's the door. Don't kill yourselves."   
  


* * *

  
Shepard had crawled over onto Garrus' lap, their Mantises sitting quietly under the glow from Menae. The watched the stars in silence, enjoying the sight of space from dry land.   
  
Shepard leaned back, her head resting on Garrus' shoulder. "Garrus, how long do we have?"   
  
"Four hours," Garrus responded, assuming she meant until they had to leave.   
  
Shepard chuckled. "I mean, how long do we have before all of this… begins to crumble?"   
  
"The reapers?" Garrus asked, stroking her bare arm with a talon.   
  
Shepard shuddered at the touch. "Yeah. Until they come out from whatever black hole they've been hiding in. Before another war begins. Before… before people start dying."   
  
Garrus was quiet for a time. "I don't know, Shepard. I hope we're wrong. I hope the Council was right the entire time and that the reapers aren't going to come. But… I don't think we have long. A few years, maybe," he mumbled.   
  
"It makes me feel guilty," she admitted softly. "Being here like this… carefree. When I should be preparing. We should be going to the Alliance and begging them to help us."   
  
"I don't know if the Alliance will help you now," Garrus said honestly. "I… you went to Cerberus, Shepard. Sure, Anderson would believe you. Hell, Udina might even believe you in some secret little corner of his mind. But no one who has influence will side with you."   
  
Shepard closed her eyes. "I really was stupid to go with Cerberus, wasn't I?"   
  
Garrus enclosed her in his arms, nuzzling her neck. "You did what was right at the time. We wouldn’t have saved as many of your colonists as we did if not for Cerberus. We wouldn’t have gotten to the collector base. Cerberus had the funds and tenacity that the Alliance doesn't."   
  
"But no one else sees it that way," Shepard whispered. Her voice trembled a bit. "Did anyone tell you… Kaidan was there on Horizon. Kasumi and Grunt were there with me  God, I wished you had been there. He said the most horrible things," she murmured. "He just… God, he called me a traitor to humanity and the galaxy, Garrus. _ Me. _ I…." She closed her eyes, feeling the pinpricks of tears beginning. "I know what the Alliance is saying about me. I know if I go back to them, they will throw me in a brig for the rest of my life."   
  
Garrus listened, unsure what to say to make her feel better. What she said was true, and that was the hardest part. How could he deny something that was plausible? Probable, even.  "I'm sorry, Shepard," he said finally, his voice muffled against her skin.   
  
Shepard nodded; her eyes were open and staring intently at Manae and, further off, Nanus. "You know, I've always wondered something about Palaven."   
  
"Hmm?" Garrus asked, hoping her next words would be less depressing than her previous.   
  
Shepard turned to meet his eyes, her own expression seeming intent and curious. "How the hell do you not have rip currents and tsunamis every few days? I mean… two moons? How the hell does that work?"   
  
Garrus laughed, brushing his best attempt at a kiss across her temple. "You'd have to ask someone smart, Shepard. I'm just a failed C-Sec officer."


	5. Sail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> The title song for this chapter is "Sail," by AWOL Nation. Please enjoy!

The ocean felt amazing. Shepard submerged herself in the water, the high salt content making it difficult to stay below the surface. She floated up effortlessly, the water cupping her in its embrace.  
  
"Shepard, you might not want to go further!" Solana called from where she was wading on the shore.   
  
Shepard turned back inland, grinning. "Come on, Sol!"   
  
Solana shook her head. Even from Shepard's distance, she could tell there was unease etched on Solana's face. "No thank you - turians don't swim, they drown!"   
  
Shepard chuckled, swimming back in from the depths. "How do you know you don't swim? Have you tried it?"   
  
Solana's voice contorted into something that could have been annoyed anger or contemplative shock. "Well… no, I haven't. But look at my species, Shepard. How are we going to lug our top-heavy bodies around in the water? It's common knowledge we sink."   
  
Shepard cocked an eyebrow. "So, you're telling me that fearless Solana Vakarian is scared to try?"   
  
"You won't get a rise out of me," Solana said simply. "I'm not swayed by ridicule, especially not from a fleshy thing."   
  
Shepard smiled, floating on her back, her arms cutting through the water as she swam further out into the ocean. "I never thought I would meet someone more stubborn than Garrus."   
  
"It runs in the clan," Solana returned, her mandibles flaring in amusement. "You're one to talk, Shepard. I've heard tales of your epic stubbornness."   
  
"I'm hardly stubborn," Shepard returned, her eyes closing, "Competitive, maybe. Not stubborn." Solana laughed, splashing a wave of water toward her.   
  
Shepard barely noticed the sun’s heat anymore. Her tightly woven, almost reptilian, skin seemed to not only protect her from the solar radiation, but also from heat itself.  She had wished she’d had this while in Florida, soaking in the rays and sunburns.   
  
Shepard sighed, thinking back to her home planet. It would be close to September now – cold and wet in her native Seattle.

Thinking of Seattle made her think of all the birthdays she spent in the rain. In the cold.  April sometimes wasn’t any better than September there.  

"Hey, Solana. When is Garrus' birthday?"

The question seemed to catch the younger Vakarian off guard. "Well… you know, I am not sure. We don't really keep track of those things."  
  
This admission made Shepard flop back over and begin swimming to shore. "What do you mean? Turians don't celebrate birthdays?"   
  
Solana chuckled. "No, we only celebrate with littlies – and even then, they aren't as elaborate as I've heard you humans have." She paused as if thinking. "It's… well, it's kind of selfish, don't you think? Having a get-together entirely about celebrating yourself?"   
  
Shepard grinned, pulling herself out of the water. "I suppose I can see how you would think so. I've never thought about it that way. Never had a birthday party, myself -- well, that’s a lie.  Garrus and the crew threw me my first birthday party this year."   
  
Solana waded back to the shore with her, grabbing a towel she had brought out for Shepard. She handed the rich fabric over to the human, her voice troubled as she spoke. "Garrus mentioned you don't have a family. I'm sorry."   
  
Shepard shrugged, toweling her hair. "You can't miss something you've never had."   
  
Solana watched her carefully, cool blue eyes seeming intrigued. "Surely that isn't so. I don't know what it's like – I've always had my father and mother, and Garrus has always kept in close contact with us until recently. I can imagine that not having those things is hard. Especially when going up against the Collectors, facing certain death…."   
  
Shepard glanced over, her eyes meeting Solana's. She smiled softly, glancing down. "Well, the Normandy, her crew… they're all the family I needed. They held me together, kept me strong. Reminded me what I fought for."   
  
"Some crew members more than others?" Solana pressed, her eyes going toward her home just a dozen yards away.   
  
Shepard also turned her attention to the house, noticing that Garrus must have returned from lunch with his father. The two male Vakarians were sitting together on the back porch, Chakute and Radi at their feet.   
  
"Yes," Shepard admitted. "One in particular."   
  
Solana watched Shepard from the corner of her eye. "You know, Commander… when I heard the rumors about you and Garrus, I was not very pleased. I was ready to hate you when I met you. But I see it now.  I can see why he chose you. And I approve, for whatever that's worth."   
  
Shepard felt a smile breaking over her face as she turned back to Solana. “It’s worth a lot."   
  
Solana made a huffing noise in the back of her throat. "Well don't go getting all sappy on me. I didn't ask you to marry into the family or anything, I just said I liked you. _Spirits,_ you humans are so emotional." Even as she said this, though, she patted Shepard's shoulder affectionately. "I suppose father wants to speak with me, or berate you, or... something. Shall we?"   
  
Shepard followed Solana, feeling her heart sink with every step. She tied the towel around her waist for decorum's sake. The swimsuit itself was very modest by human standards; it was a plain, strapless one-piece that covered everything. On Palaven, however, Shepard had noticed that the females rarely wore anything that displayed more than their arms.   
  
As they approached, the older Vakarian regarded Shepard, his eyes the same color as his son and daughter’s.  "Still alive, I see?" he asked Shepard. "The radiation seems to be avoiding you."   
  
"Cipritine Medical has a drug that is supposed to counteract it," Shepard replied easily.  “Or so they tell me.”   
  
Castis Vakarian did not seem amused. "You are quite brave, it seems, Commander.  Injecting yourself with a drug that is still in its infancy has been known to go poorly.  And throwing yourself into our ocean isn’t much smarter."   
  
"Dad," Garrus began, mandibles clicking, "stop. It's been tested."   
  
"But not approved," Castis added.   
  
"I appreciate your concern, sir," Shepard said, voice light. "I trust your physicians. They seem to know what they're doing. Besides, who could resist such a beautiful ocean?"   
  
Castis seemed surprised at her praise of their doctors and ocean. He blinked a few times before glancing over to Solana. "How has it been having them living under your roof?  Stepping on your talons?"   
  
Solana shrugged. "Garrus is the usual – a smartass full of ideas. His _felairte,_ though… she's a good one."   
  
Shepard felt her cheeks flush at the comment.

Garrus even looked gratified at her words. Castis made a soft sound that could have been a chuckle or a cough.  "Well, when will you two be moving on?"

Garrus glanced over at Shepard, who in turn shrugged. "I suppose in a week or so," Garrus began, sounding unsure.  
  
"Or we might start looking for real estate," Shepard added, attempting to be coy. She heard Solana snort back laughter and watched Garrus' eyes nearly pop out of his head. "I do love this beach. Good place for a varren or two to run after sticks – or maybe even some kids to chase crabs," she added, glancing at Garrus and grinning, remembering the vid of him doing just that as a child.   
  
Castis looked uncomfortable.  “I assume you are not mocking our home or way of life, Commander.”   
  
Shepard was taken aback by that.  "Not at all, sir. I love everything here. It's much cleaner and prettier than where I grew up.  More wholesome.”   
  
Castis looked contemplative before moving off of the porch. He began to amble toward the front of the house, humming quietly to himself. He stopped just before he disappeared out of view, glancing up to where Shepard stood. "I wasn’t sure what your game was when Garrus joined up with you.  I didn’t expect to like you, to be honest.  But you seem like an honest person.  Possibly even a good person. For now, that is enough."   
  
Shepard offered a small, wry smile. "Not all of us are traitors, thieves, and marauders. Quite a few of us are actually pretty decent."   
  
Castis nodded, more to himself than to her. "Perhaps, Shepard."   


* * *

  
Solana, Garrus, and Shepard had an uneventful dinner at home, sitting outside and watching the waves crash against the shore. Chakute and Radi chased each other around the beach, growling and making sand fly through the air.   
  
"I'm ready for bed," Solana yawned, stretching. "You two can take care of dishes – part of your indentured servitude in exchange for free boarding."   
  
Shepard grinned. "Good night, Sol."   
  
"Night, sis," Garrus bade her, picking up the plates and utensils on the table. He took them inside and began washing them, calling out to Shepard, "Want to watch a vid or something?"   
  
Shepard moved back into the house, whistling for the varren to follow her. The pair seemed to be growing accustomed to the human because they bounded into the house after her, nudging her hand as they brushed passed.   
  
"A vid sounds good," Shepard agreed. She flopped down on the floor, finding it more comfortable than the awkwardly angled couches. "You pick."   
  
Garrus finished up with the dishes before coming into the sitting room with her. The vid screen came on with a wave of Garrus' hand. "Vids," he announced clearly. The vid screen populated a holo-selection of what had to be thousands of films.   
  
"Wow," Shepard breathed. "Your sister had quite the collection."   
  
"She was dating some producer when she was younger," he grumbled, not sounding very pleased. "I know it's probably hard for you to tell, but my sister is cursed with good looks. At eighteen she snagged this thirty-something producer. He wanted a trophy girl for his public appearances and she was it. In exchange, he gave her unlimited access to the production company's vidvault. He even put her in a few movies," he added, chuckling in spite of himself.   
  
Shepard looked shell-shocked. "You're kidding me! Solana's a celebrity?"   
  
"Spirits, no," Garrus laughed. "She can't act to save her life. She was more… well, she was more there for her looks. They were all empty parts that needed minimal lines and maximum sensuality. Which, suffice to say, I never saw any of those vids."   
  
Shepard chuckled. "That's still pretty impressive. I thought she was still serving aboard ships at that time though?"   
  
"She was," Garrus sighed. "They filmed between her tours. Except for the documentary she was in – that one was aboard the SVR Flood and documented the lives of the crew members. That one was decent – won some sort of award, too."   
  
"Wanna watch it?" Shepard asked, curiosity piqued. "It'd be interesting to see a turian military ship."   
  
Garrus shrugged, selecting the vid from the massive database. He joined her on the floor, wrapping an arm around her should. He pulled her close, brushing a kiss to her temple. "Thanks, Shepard. For trying to appease my dad.  He’s not the easiest person to be around.  He’s still pretty wary of humans, too."   
  
Shepard smiled, snuggling into him. "He has a right to be protective. You two are his kids."   
  
Garrus groaned. "We’re adult kids.  You’d think he’d let us go eventually."

“Never,” Shepard chuckled.  “I mean, Grunt’s basically an adult and I still call him every night.”

“Grunt’s not your son, Shepard,” Garrus said, and not for the first time.

Shepard only smiled and shrugged as she usually did.  “I dunno.  I think he kind of is.”

As usual, Garrus let it go.  It was kind of, weirdly, adorable.  

 


	6. Dirty Paws

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
>  **Chapter Warning:** Animal death.
> 
> ["Dirty Paws," by Of Monsters and Men.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mCHUw7ACS8o) Please enjoy!

The sound of metallic shrieking filled the room. Shepard was on her feet in an instant, hand reaching for the gun she kept under her pillow. She made a quick assessment of her room, sharp eyes finding every shadow lingering in every corner. Nothing. Whatever was happening, it wasn't happening in her room.   
  
She didn’t bother getting dressed - it sounded like the least of their worries at the moment was her lack of decorum. Her gun accompanied her as she made her way, quickly and quietly, into the hallway of Solana's home. Shepard bent her knees, lowering herself further toward the floor in order to get a good vantage point without being as easily spotted.   
  
Just as Shepard was about to check Solana's room for the source of the alarm, the female turian emerged. She was rubbing her face plates with a hand, looking peevish. At seeing Shepard, Solana let out a little snort. "Spirits, Shepard, get up. I'm sure Garrus has just about-"   
  
A whoop of glee echoed through the hallway, coming from the living room. "Sixteen years and I can still disarm this damned thing in less than a minute!" Garrus' voice trickled in from the living room, his voice crowing in self-congratulation.   
  
Solana rolled her eyes and began padding toward the living room. Bemused, Shepard followed, her gun falling to her side. "What the hell was that?" she finally asked as they rounded the corner.   
  
Garrus glanced over his shoulder at hearing her voice. He was standing on top of one of the white chairs positioned against the far wall, fiddling with something in the corner. When he pulled away from it, Shepard realized it was an alarm system.   
  
"Did someone try to break in?" Shepard asked, feeling even more confused. Nothing looked disturbed.   
  
"I doubt it," Solana sighed. "I put Radi and Chakute outside a few hours ago. They probably chased something over the perimeter. Damn varren. They know not to cross it."   
  
Garrus was still standing on the chair, staring at Shepard.  She knew the hawkish, hungry look in his eyes.  Her exposed skin was evidently distracting him.

“Garrus, you’re being disgusting,” Solana chided, evidently sensing the shift in mood.

Garrus cleared his throat and descended from the chair.  "They're just varren, Sol. It's not like they're all that intelligent." To Shepard, he added, "This house used to be Mom and Dad's. They installed the security system when I was little."

"He had a habit of climbing out of his crib and terrorizing the neighbors when mom was napping," Solana added, a sneaky glint in her eyes.   
  
"Nothing major," Garrus grumbled. "I snuck into a few houses, chased a few crabs on the beach…."   
  
"Rehomed a few crabs in a few houses," Solana added mischievously.   
  
Garrus narrowed his eyes. "You weren't even born yet; quit acting like you know what you're talking about." His tone was affectionate, though, and Solana just laughed.   
  
Shepard smiled, shaking her head. "How did you two grow up without killing one another?"   
  
Solana shrugged. "He was out of the house before I was old enough to really cause damage."   
  
"Thank the spirits," Garrus chuckled, moving over to where Shepard stood. "I think you can put the gun away now," he added softly, running a talon across the slope of her side.   
  
"Yes, please do.  And Garrus, hands to yourself when I’m in the room," Solana added before moving toward the large sliding glass door leading out to the beach. "I'm bringing the terrors inside so they don't set the alarm off anymore. You might want to stand back."   
  
Shepard moved out of the way, going behind the couch so that the varren wouldn't stampede her on their path toward the bedroom. Garrus took his sister's lack of attention as a chance to nuzzle his face into Shepard's neck, murmuring, "How about we get away for a few days? Just you and me."   
  
"I think that would be fantastic," Shepard returned, letting her eyes close gently at the feel of his mandibles scraping softly across her shoulder and the back of her neck.   
  
Solana had pulled aside the curtains and opened the glass door, making a clicking noise to call the varren in. One of the brothers ran in, tail between his legs, making a strange keening noise.   
  
"Radi, what is it?" Solana asked, crouching down and making the same clicking noise.   
  
Radi ignored her command and ran down the hall and into the bedroom, still whining. Shepard watched him in confusion before she noticed the streaks on the floor. "Solana…."   
  
Solana was looking outside, calling for Chakute, and didn't seem to hear Shepard. "Where in the hell is that damn varren?" she grumbled.   
  
Shepard felt herself going cold and it had nothing to do with her lack of clothing. She stepped away from Garrus, walking toward the long, loping streaks of crimson on the tile. She bent down, feeling her voice get lodged in her throat. "Sol…Solana."   
  
Solana glanced over. As she did, she noticed the marks, as well. Solana's eyes widened and she slowly fell against the wall. One of her hands was on her face and she was muttering quietly to herself.   
  
"Garrus," Shepard began slowly, "go check Radi for any injuries."   
  
Garrus didn't ask questions, he just acted. He ran down the hall, calling for the varren. He was only gone for a few moments before he returned, shaking his head. "Radi's fine. He… he looked like he stepped in the blood.  A lot of blood."   
  
"It's Chakute," Solana murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "Someone… someone hurt him." Solana was shaking, her eyes still wide. "He always comes when I call. He… he…."   
  
"Solana," Shepard began softly, "shut the door. We need to call the Guard. Someone might still be out there."   
  
Solana was shaking her head. "I'm going to kill them… I'm going to…." She moved to the doorway, screaming, "I will find you, you sick bastard! I'm going to find you and kill you myself!"   
  
Garrus strode over, grabbed his sister around the waist, and hoisted her back inside the house. He shut the door quickly with one hand, the other holding Solana's writhing, angry lashes at bay.   
  
"Shepard, call it in," Garrus grunted as Solana leveled a sharp blow at his still tender mandible.   
  
Shepard nodded, pulling up her omni-tool's interface.   
  


* * *

 

Shepard was drinking a glass of water, finally dressed, while the Turian Academy Guard took pictures of the blood splatters in the house, Radi's dirty paws, and the beach front. 

The officers had found Chakute's body, dismembered and beheaded, near the shore.

Solana was answering a young officer's questions in a flat, halting voice. She was in shock. It was a strange emotion to see on the female turian's face. Her small mandibles didn't even flutter as she spoke. She looked as still as a statue.   
  
Garrus and Shepard had already told their version of the night's events. The most common question that seemed to be asked, over and over, was:   
_   
"And when the alarm went off… why didn't you try to investigate further at that time?"   
_   
Solana's eyes rose to the officer. Very calmly, her voice like a ruffle of summer breeze, she murmured, "Are you accusing us of killing my varren? Any of us?"   
  
The officer looked uncomfortable. "Solana… I have to ask. We have to look at every possibility."   
  
"You know me, Ilode. We're friends. We go out drinking every weekend. And my brother vouched for you when you applied to TAG. Shepard’s a goddamn __ war hero  who's saved all of our asses multiple times. Do you really think, for one second, that any of us did this?"   
  
Ilode's eyes filled with something like regret. "I know you loved him, Sol. I know you're upset. But I have to ask. You know that."   
  
Solana's eyes closed tightly and her shoulders slumped. Shepard bit her lower lip and said the only thing she could think of. "Do you think I might be able to help with the investigation?"   
  
Ilode and a few of the other officers exchanged surprised looks. "With all due respect, Shepard," one of them murmured, "you're a civilian… and a suspect."

The pressure of Solana's sadness was wearing Ilode down. "How the hell would she have triggered the alarm, caused that amount of damage to Chakute, and then get back to her room, cleaned up, and met Solana in the hall in less than a minute?"   
  
"She couldn't have," Garrus muttered. "None of us could have. And while you're keeping us all penned in here, some asshole is out there cleaning up his mess."   
  
Ilode nodded, looking tired. "We can't just add you to our task force, Shepard. But, as a Spectre, you have a right to perform a private investigation if you see fit. We will cooperate with you to the extent expected from us."   
  
Shepard nodded, feeling a little bit better. "Alright then. Who wants to show us to the crime scene?"   
  
"Us?" Ilode repeated, casting a nervous glance toward Solana.   
  
"Garrus and myself," Shepard clarified a small grimace on her face. "He's my proxy."   
  



	7. Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
>  **Chapter Warning:** Descriptions of a dead body.
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["Be Gone Dull Cage," by Kiev.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZDn6rS6kjtE)

Shepard's stomach roiled as she looked down at the body. The mound of butchered flesh was no longer Chakute, was no longer a varren, even. It was just a body. Just a crime scene.   
  
Shepard breathed through her mouth in attempts to keep the thick, metallic scent of blood from her nostrils. Garrus seemed to be taking the same approach as he slid on a pair of three-fingered latex gloves that one of the investigators handed to him.   
  
"Any signs of a disturbance?" Garrus asked, voice even. Shepard had never gotten to see him acting as a cop – not really, anyway. But here he was in full C-Sec seriousness, sharp eyes scanning the ground around them.   
  
"None, sir," a young guard answered promptly, chest puffed out. He seemed to be trying to make a good impression – either for Garrus or Shepard, she wasn't sure.   
  
Shepard did her best to ignore the hovering orbs of light, which bathed the moonlit beach in a flickering blue glow. There were only a handful of the orbs and yet they filled the surrounding twenty meters of beach with their strangely bright light. Instead, she lowered herself next to Garrus, careful not to touch anything.   
  
Her eyes were drawn to the cut to the belly first. "It looks precise," Shepard said, though she was sure even a rookie could have pulled that detail from the body. "One long, swift cut. How do you suppose the perp got close enough to his belly to cut him open like this?"   
  
"It's possible that he was decapitated first," Ilode murmured as he came up to the group. "I can't see Chakute letting anyone besides Solana get that close to him, especially not if the person wished him harm. Varren are damn good at sensing a person's intentions."   
  
Shepard moved a little closer to Garrus, leaning over to check the wound at the neck. There was something off about it, but she couldn't quite place what. She had never really been involved in murder investigations – most of her missions dealt with killing the bad guys, not fingering perps based on dead bodies.   
  
"No, the belly wound came first," Garrus said suddenly. "Here, come look at this." The turians around them shifted, as if confused, before drawing closer. Garrus ran his finger along the wound on the neck. "Notice anything strange?"   
  
A few murmurs, a cough. And then, the chest-puffing turian stammered hesitantly, "The skin. It's puckered and not smooth?"   
  
Garrus nodded. "Exactly. This cut was made post-mortem. Blood was already leaving the body by the time they took the head, which is why it's congealing here. Nice job."   
  
The turian looked thrilled at the praise. "Thank you, sir."   
  
"So," Shepard began, "we've established the belly cut was the first. How did the perp get out here and make the cut without being noticed by Chakute or Radi?"   
  
Ilode looked concerned. "That's my main issue with this whole thing. Radi. From what I have seen of him, plus Solana's own assessment, Radi was the gentler of the two. But, he was fiercely protective of the property and his brother. I don't think he would have let someone just come onto the property and start swinging a knife."   
  
"The cuts are too deep for a knife," Shepard added. "And thick, judging from the bruising around the cut on the belly. There was some blunt trauma along with the cut." She moved to the neck wound. "I would say something like an old machete, but bigger. It cut clean through his neck with one blow."   
  
Garrus was nodding, looking impressed. "Shepard, you would have made an excellent C-Sec office."   
  
Shepard shook her head. "No patience. I don't like red tape."  Garrus chuckled at that.   
  
A large hover-vehicle glided silently to the beach, stopping a few meters away from the roped off area. A group of turians, all wearing white, emerged. The one at the front was an older female, and most obviously the one in charge.   
  
She stepped closer to the body, surveying the scene before frowning. "I don't know if anyone else noticed… but from the way the cut is angled, and the way the blood is pooling… the varren was killed right where he was lying. My guess would be that he was unconscious when the killer approached."   
  
The three turians who had come to the scene with her began taking pictures with their omni-tools, typing in notes on each picture for later reference.   
  
Ilode nodded to the woman, his bright green eyes catching the orb-light as they glittered in anticipation. "Helda, could you show us?"   
  
Garrus and Shepard moved aside, letting the female turian take position. "From the wound angle, it looks like whoever attacked was crouched down close to him. The blade was drawn down his sternum," she continued, mimicking the motion, "neck to tail, and he bled out rather quickly."   
  
"So it was an instant kill?" Ilode questioned, looking confused.   
  
Helda shook her head. "No, he would have suffered for a few minutes."   
  
"There's no sign of struggle, though," Shepard pointed out.   
  
"Right, which most likely means was drugged," Helda said with a shrug. "Until a toxicology screening is done, I can't be for certain. He may have been knocked out by a blow to the head. We wouldn't know the difference since we're missing the head." She then frowned. "After our perp grabbed some entrails and strung them about, he moved to the head. A quick, downward strike and the weapon met resistance on the spinal column," she added, pointing out a small, almost impossible, hitch in the skin. "The perp pulled the blade out and struck a second time and severed the head."   
  
"You're telling me that was two cuts?" Ilode made a disbelieving noise. "Whoever did this is good with a blade."   
  
"Very," Helda sighed. She shook her head. "If you all are done with the initial, we'd like to begin taking pictures and scanning the area."   
  
Ilode glanced around at his crew before murmuring, "Of course. Shepard, are you and Garrus done?"   
  
"I'll leave it to the professionals," Shepard said, putting a bit of distance between herself and the body. She was not feeling so well now. "I would like it if we could be called once the tox screen comes back? And if anything else is found, of course."   
  
Helda nodded crisply. "Certainly. If you'd like to leave me your identifier, I'll give you a call once we find something."   
  
Shepard quickly gave her the number, along with Garrus', and Helda smiled. "I'll be in touch."   
  
Shepard waved a goodbye to the group of investigators, turning to move back toward the house. Garrus pulled his gloves off and dropped them into the portable incinerator just as the first signs of daylight were beginning to peek at the edges of the ocean.   
  
"How are you feeling?" Garrus asked gently as he joined her on the walk back to the house. Their steps were even but slow.   
  
"I'm fine," Shepard answered automatically. She paused, taking stock of her words. "Well… I am numb right now. So, for now, I'm fine."   
  
Garrus nodded, his hand gently resting on the small of her back as they walked. The simple touch was a comforting weight.  "I know what you mean."   
  
"Part of me feels like this is silly," she admitted. "I mean… Chakute is just a varren. Like a dog back home. He isn't as important as you, or Solana, or me. But it still…." she trailed off, unsure how to name this unfathomable tightness that took residence in her chest.   
  
"But it still feels personal. An assault on our family," Garrus murmured, his tone dark.   
  
Shepard glanced at him, smiling faintly. _ "Our _ family?" she repeated.   
  
Garrus made a strange noise before shaking his head. "You know what I meant."   
  
Shepard decided it was neither the time nor place to tease him on his word choice. She nodded, sobering, and murmured, "You're right, this feels personal." As Shepard opened the sliding glass door, she added softly, "Whoever did that didn't do it just to hurt an animal. The way they did it was too deliberate."   
  
"I tend to agree," a gruff growl came from the corner of the room. Shepard turned swiftly, coming face-to-face with Garrus' father, Castis. The older turian looked sharp and alert. "Commander, you surveyed the scene?"   
  
"Yes, sir," Shepard replied, doing her best to keep her tone even. After their last encounter, she wasn't sure what to expect out of the eldest Vakarian. He had seemed begrudgingly accepting of her, which was hard to deal with. Open hostility and friendliness were easy. It was the gray areas Shepard always had trouble with.   
  
"Solana went to bed. I came by to see what you found," Castis continued. "Was there anything?"   
  
"No, sir, no incriminating evidence that we were able to find on the beach. TAG is taking the body back for analysis."   
  
Castis nodded. He was silent for a time before saying, "Shepard, I have no doubt this is because of you. I’m not blaming you for this,” he added swiftly, correctly guessing Garrus’ low growl.  “You are part of my son’s life and that means you're part of my life. I want to assign you some protection."   
  
Shepard sighed. "With all due respect-"   
  
"Dad, we'll be fine," Garrus interrupted. "For all we know, it had nothing to do with Shepard – or any of us. We don't know anything yet."   
  
Castis met Garrus' gaze. "You're right, but I have a hunch. I know by the look in your eyes, you do, too, Garrus. Keep me informed of any developments." He nodded a sharp goodnight to the pair before going to the front door. "Try to keep an eye on Solana. Her mother gave her the varren… they meant more to Solana than she lets on."   
  
"Sir, I will find who did this," Shepard said, feeling the truth in her words.   
  
Castis nodded. "I know you will." He shut the door softly and Garrus moved to lock it.   
  
"You seem to win favor with everyone," Garrus chuckled.   
  
Before Shepard could respond, Solana came down the hall. She was stony faced, but her voice cracked when she asked, "I don't want to sleep. I want to drink. And watch vids. Who's in?"   
  
"Sounds fantastic," Shepard breathed, some of the tension releasing from her chest.   
  


* * *

 

There was a present on the front lawn. The box had beautiful red wrapping paper, a scarlet bow, and looked exactly like something the belonged under a Christmas tree. The sight of it made something inside of Shepard wary. She had been at the window for fifteen minutes, just staring at the package. When Solana reached for the control pad to open the door, Shepard grabbed her arm.

"Call the Guard," Shepard murmured. "Have them bring a bomb team, just to be sure. After last night, I'm not ruling anything out."   
  
Solana looked confused, her eyes glancing back toward the package. "What is it, anyway?"   
  
"It's a present… a human thing. We wrap boxes with gifts inside, and then we put bows on them," Shepard responded distractedly, eyes never leaving the red blot on the front lawn. The paper and the bow were so familiar. Shepard couldn't shake the feeling like she'd seen something similar before.   
  
Garrus came in through the back door at that moment, looking bright-eyed. Solana nodded a hello to him while listening to the hold line music on her earpiece. Shepard didn't even stir. "What's going on?" Garrus asked, sensing the tension.   
  
Neither one answered him, so he sighed and rummaged through his bag for a change of clothes. He had gone for a run down by the water like he did as a child.  He had been dressed in only a pair of linen pants - Shepard would have turned to admire his bare torso if she wasn’t too wrapped up in the wrapped package outside.   
  
Garrus grumbled something about being ignored as he pulled a tunic over his chest. He came to stand beside Shepard, moving to nuzzle her neck – and then stopped when he saw the present through the window. It was closer to the road than to the house, but it was clear that it was intended for them.   
  
"What is it?" he asked softly.   
  
"A present," Shepard replied distractedly.   
  
"Obviously," Garrus grumbled, having spent a lot of time around human culture since moving to the Citadel. "I mean what's inside?"   
  
"That's what I'm worried about," Shepard admitted. "Solana's calling the Guard. I don't want any of us to get close to it… in case."   
  
"Do you think it may be from whoever was here last night?" he asked softly.   
  
Shepard shrugged. "I'd say it's a huge possibility. Solana's having a bomb squad called in. If I knew anything about bombs, I'd do it myself-"   
  
"No," Garrus and Solana said at the same time. Both siblings' blue eyes were hard as they trained on her. "You will do no such thing, you foolish girl," Solana simpered. "We're calling in the professionals."   
  
"I agree with her," Garrus added, "for all the good that does. Tech expert or not, you still don't know what's inside the box. It could be a proximity mine or something."   
  
Shepard did not move away from the window. "Something about it… It reminds me of something."   
  
The bomb squad was in and out in less than five minutes. It had obviously not been an explosive, but the squad was replaced with TAG officers swarming around the box. A few were taking photos with their omni-tools, uploading the link directly to HQ, a few making calls.   
  
Shepard was out of the front door before Solana or Garrus had time to call out to her. "What is it?" Shepard called over the din, making her way closer.   
  
"Hey! Get the civilian behind the perimeter!" one of the closest Guard called, looking frustrated. "Lady, get back over that line-"   
  
"That's the Spectre," Ilode called, waving for the officer to step away from her. "Shepard, come on over. It's… It's not pretty, though."   
  
Shepard came to stand beside Ilode. At first, it looked like the interior of the box has been covered in wrapping paper, as well. Instead of wrapping paper, however, it was blood. The contents of the box had begun to fester in the morning sunlight and the smell was getting unbearable.   
  
Shepard swallowed deeply, steeling her stomach against the smell. "Well. I guess we found the head."   
  
"And his heart," Ilode nodded, grimacing. "Obviously a message from your perp last night."   
  
"Message?" Shepard repeated, shaking her head. "What message is it? Other than whoever did this is some twisted freak that gets off on killing things."   
  
"There was a note in the box, too. We can't read it, and the translators can’t pick it up.  It looks handwritten and crude.  Maybe you can make sense of it. You've got to get some gloves on, though. We don't have any five-fingered ones," Ilode began apologetically. "But we do have some neoprene gel in the EMT cart."   
  
Shepard sighed but did as he asked. She would have had her own personal gloves on her had she known she was going to step into a crime scene investigation. Instead, she went to one of the EMT vehicles, forcing a smile. "Neoprene gel?"   
  
The turian there, wearing a pale green one-piece, nodded gruffly toward what appeared to be a barrel of black sludge. Shepard winced, remembering the feel of the stuff from her days back in basic medical training.   
  
She took a deep breath and plunged her hands into the sludge. The stuff instantly attached itself to her hands, molding to fill the spaces between her fingers. She waited while the stuff shifted over her skin, feeling like wriggling fish between her hands.   
  
After a few minutes, the strange sensation faded and Shepard pulled her hands out. A set of perfect neoprene gloves encased her hands in a dark swath.   
  
When she arrived back to the box, Ilode was speaking with Garrus. The younger turian offered Shepard a faint nod as he spoke. "-understand what this must be like for your sister, Garrus, but she can't come out here. It will do no good to see this."   
  
"She's stronger than you give her credit for, Ilode," Garrus replied. "Besides, when did you get the idea she gives a damn what I say?"   
  
"What else was in the box?" Shepard interjected. She just had her hands in a bucket of wriggling slime for two minutes and she was not letting them distract her from the reason she endured the torment.   
  
Ilode waved over a young female Guard. "Could you show Shepard the note, please?"   
  
The female retrieved an evidence bag and handed it over to Shepard. "Please be careful not to contaminate it in any way."   
  
Shepard ignored her. She was too busy opening the bag and pulling out the small piece of paper. The writing was crude, but English. Shepard frowned at the words before glancing away from the note.   
  
Garrus watched her curiously. "What is it, Shepard?"   
  
"It's addressed to me," Shepard murmured darkly, finger tracing over the letters of her first name. "And it says they are coming for me."   
  



	8. Young Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["Young Blood," by The Naked and Famous.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uKah46d41Mw) Please enjoy!

"Who's coming?" Garrus asked, his mandibles flaring.   
  
Shepard shrugged, but her jaw was set in a firm line. "I don't know. But it's because I'm here. All of this was to get my attention." She glanced back at the note and read aloud, "Jane - You chose the wrong side yet again. This time it's going to kill you and the ones you love."   
  
Garrus cursed heavily, turning to Ilode. "What are we going to do?"   
  
Ilode looked uneasy. "We'll check for prints on the box, on the paper, on everything. Try to find some plate or hair or skin fibers. No matter what, we'll be placing a protective detail around you at all times, Shep-"   
  
"No way," Shepard interrupted. "No protective details.  I don’t need TAG losing men because of me."   
  
Solana had emerged from the house while they had been speaking. She was now looking into the box, her face a cool mask. "They won't get to Shepard. All of us have had military training. We'll protect her."   
  
"Shepard doesn't need protecting," Garrus added. "Out of all of us, she's the one I am least worried about." He was staring pointedly at Solana, but she did not notice.   
  
Ilode rubbed a hand over his faceplates, grumbling something about being stubborn. "I will at least have increased air patrols through here. If you see anything, please call us. I know you're a Spectre, and I know you can handle yourself, but…." Ilode broke off, glancing over at Solana. The youngest Vakarian was still staring down at the box, her shoulders drooping but face strong. "I really don't want to see this family suffer any more losses."   
  
"We will call you," Shepard agreed, smiling faintly. She glanced back at Solana and murmured, "Go back in, Sol. They need to finish up here."   
  
Solana nodded and allowed Garrus to lead her back inside. Shepard lingered with Ilode at the front of the property, waiting until Solana was out of range. She turned back to Ilode and murmured, "I have some contacts I'd like to call about this. I might be able to track someone down from the inside."   
  
"You think you know what's going on? Who's doing this?"   
  
"Maybe," Shepard bit the inside of her cheek, wondering how much to say. "The only thing I can think of is Cerberus. I don't really know anyone else who might lash out against me being on Palaven."   
  
"What about people who would lash out against you in general?" Ilode pressed. "Maybe it has nothing to do with Palaven, but everything to do with you."   
  
Shepard sighed, putting the scrap message back in the evidence bag and sealing it. "There is such a long line of people I've pissed off over the years… I don't even know where to begin."   
  


* * *

 

"Shepard, I didn't expect to hear from you."

Shepard smiled, feeling real relief fill her as she heard the cocky Australian accent filter over her earpiece. "I'm glad you're still safe."   
  
"For the moment," Miranda replied softly. "What can I help with? Are your implants acting up?"   
  
"No, nothing like that. I was wondering if you still had some connections in Cerberus."   
  
Shepard had to wait for a few moments before Miranda sighed deeply. "Shepard, you just got out of the hospital.  You really shouldn't go looking for trouble."   
  
"I'm not," Shepard insisted. "But trouble found me. We just don't know what kind of trouble yet. I'd like to rule out the Illusive Man's involvement."   
  
Miranda was silent for a spell before she responded. "From what I have heard, you're the last thing on the Illusive Man's mind. Evidently, some information we picked up months prior held a genetic sequencing that he has been dabbling with. I don't have any more detail than that."   
  
"So, in other words, he isn't sending operatives to stalk me," Shepard surmised.   
  
"Not at all," Miranda agreed. After a stretch of silence, she added, "Shepard, I am going off the grid for a while. I'll contact you if I hear anything, but…." Shepard could hear the tension in her voice. "I'm not as lucky as you. It seems he has taken an interest in me again."   
  
"Get off the grid.  Contact me when you can and let me know you're okay."   
  
"I will," Miranda breathed, sounding relieved. "And Shepard… you're more of a friend than I ever expected or deserved. I just want you to know… it's been hard for me. With you. But I respect and admire you. And I… I think of you as my friend."   
  
"Don't make this sounds like a goodbye, Miranda," Shepard murmured. When Miranda didn't respond, she continued, "If you need me, I'm here."   
  
"Thanks, Shepard. Be careful," she bade. The line disconnected.   
  
Shepard let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. She and Miranda didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things, but Miranda always had her back. Shepard just hoped the ex-Cerberus scientist wouldn't be stubborn enough to ignore the offer of help.   
  
She pulled up her omni-tool interface and found an old encrypted message sent from a strange identifier. She sent a message over to the number, asking to be called. Within moments, her omni-tool was buzzing.   
  
"Hey, Shep," the girl's voice filtered through the earpiece. "Good of you to finally let me know you're alive."   
  
"You knew I was alive," Shepard chuckled. "Stop pretending you haven't been hacking into my terminal and omni-tool."   
  
Kasumi, master thief and hacker extraordinaire, chuckled. "I know, I know. If I wanted to ghost your things, though, you wouldn't have any idea I was doing it. I was hoping to prompt you into a response!"   
  
"Well, you've got me on the line now," Shepard grinned. "What's up?"   
  
"Not much," Kasumi admitted. "Although the Hanar homeworld? Yuck. Thane wanted to come down to, you know… say last goodbyes."   
  
"How is he?"   
  
Kasumi sighed. "He's weakening, but still in good spirits."   
  
"It's good of you to be there with him. He needs you."   
  
"Yeah, well… I am attracted to the guys with the fatal flaws, I guess," Kasumi chuckled. "So, Shep, what's got you calling me? Need me to sleuth on Garrus? See if he is cheating on you?"   
  
"No, definitely not that," Shepard laughed. "I need to know if you can put some feelers out."   
  
"Oh?"   
  
Shepard tried to decide how much to tell her. "I am being followed. Someone attacked Garrus' sister's varren. Killed it, more specifically, and then sent me a bow-encased box with the varren's head in it."   
  
"Classy. It reminds me of this ancient Earth movie. Only it was a human head, not an alien dog's-"   
  
"That's not all," Shepard interrupted, trying to keep Kasumi's attention. "There was a note; it was in English, so we're guessing it's from a human. The note said I'd chosen the wrong side. And this time my choices would get me and my loved ones killed."   
  
"Can't people just have face-to-face confrontations?" Kasumi mused. "What happened to that? Now we have to send creepy boxes of animal parts to each other. I don't think I want to be human anymore."   
  
Shepard couldn't help but smile. "Well, if you could put some feelers out, maybe figure out who might be-"   
  
"Sure thing. Send me the pictures; I might be able to get some info from the box or the bow or something."   
  
Shepard frowned. "I don't have the pictures. They're all in evidence with the Turian Academy Guard. I can run down there and get some if you-"   
  
"TAG?  Psh, don't worry about it. I have access to their mainframe. I can get copies of everything they have."   
  
Shepard chuckled. "I'm not even going to ask why you have that. Thanks, Kasumi. You're a lifesaver."   
  
"Quite literally if I can get figure out who's doing this," Kasumi hummed. "Alright, I'll get to work. Keep me posted if you get any more love letters, 'kay?"   
  
"Sure. Later, Kasumi."   
  
The line went dead. Kasumi, she was sure, was eager to get to work.   
  


* * *

  
  
Shepard collapsed on the couch next to Garrus, letting out a sigh. "Well. So much for a relaxing tropical vacation." The sun was beginning to sink over the ocean, darkening the unlit living room.   
  
Garrus made a sound somewhere between a snort and a groan. "You're telling me. I think you're a trouble magnet. We can't have a relaxing vacation to save our lives."   
  
"Earth was pretty relaxing," Shepard argued, smiling.   
  
Garrus glanced over at her, his mandibles wiggling. "You're joking, right? We had Udina breathing down our necks, Kaidan shoved his fat tongue down your throat, and then we had to go to Mexico to save Joker. Oh, and then I got shot in Tijuana. While saving Joker. Can you explain to me how that was relaxing?"   
  
Shepard only smiled, her eyelids closing. "You're right, it was a fucking disaster."   
  
"At least you see reason," he chuckled. "Solana's been in her bedroom for hours. I'm wondering if we should check on her."   
  
"She just suffered a loss," Shepard replied softly. "The varren were like family. They were her children."   
  
They sat on the couch for a while, not speaking. The hot breeze through the opened window whipped Shepard's hair around her face in a swirling eddy of color. Garrus reached out, tucking some of the locks behind her ear. "What are you thinking about?"   
  
Shepard's smile grew. "Something silly."   
  
"I must hear this," Garrus prodded her side, making her laugh.   
  
"I had a dream last night," she began, her face relaxed. "Before the alarm and all of that… stuff. I dreamed that we defeated the reapers. Retired. Had a house on the beach, saw every sunset."  Her voice was wistful. "And... there were kids. _ So _ many kids, it was kind of insane."   
  
Garrus' heart jolted at the words. He hadn’t told Shepard about what Miranda had confided to him.  They’d never discussed the extent of her injuries, the extent of what she lost.   
  
Shepard chuckled, getting to her feet. "I told you it was silly."   
  
"Shepard-" Garrus began, hating himself for what he was about to do, what he was about to say. He had to tell her, but he was terrified of how she would react   
  
"Shepard, there you are," Solana breathed as she came around the corner. She was dressed provocatively for turians – so much so that Garrus sputtered in confusion.   
  
Shepard eyed the turian's bared arms and upper torso, along with her uncovered, slender midriff. "Wow, I uh… I didn't know that was fashionable in turian culture, too."   
  
Solana huffed. "Of course it is, you humans rub off on everyone. Come on, we need to get you dressed. You're both going out with me tonight."   
  
"Going out?" Shepard and Garrus repeated.   
  
Solana nodded impatiently. "Yes. Out. As in, not sulking here on the couch. We're all going to go out and have some drinks."   
  
"Where?" Garrus asked, getting to his feet.   
  
"It's Friday, where do you think?"   
  
"Friday… if I recall, that means Saucy Albatross has a packed dance floor and an open bar."   
  
"Hell yes it does," Solana crowed.   
  


* * *

  
It was nearly three in the morning when they made it back to the house. Solana and Ilode, who was one of usual her drinking companions, had danced for hours, leaving Shepard and Garrus to get riotously drunk.   
  
As they got out of the cab, Shepard stumbled out back onto the beach, her heels in hand and toes padding through the sand. Garrus quickly paid the cab and ran to catch up with the commander.   
  
He found Shepard sprawled on her back in the sand not far from the back door. She was looking up at the sky, her tube top riding up to her ribs, her short skirt barely covering anything anymore.   
  
Garrus lowered himself beside her, careful not to snag a knee spur. Sitting on the ground was never something turians did gracefully. "You probably shouldn't be out here.  Just in case."   
  
"I'm fine. I've got company," she added, patting his knee.   
  
"Well, you've got unarmed, inebriated company. But I'll do my best, I guess." They sat silently, Garrus thinking over the best way to tell her about her surgeries. He had tried to think of a gentle way all night, but there was never the right moment. Being in a packed club with risqué club mixes blaring wasn't the best place to break news.   
  
"What's keeping you so quiet?" Shepard finally asked, her hand tracing over the fabric of Garrus' linen pants. Her hand hovered like an anxious butterfly at his knee.   
  
Garrus steeled himself for what he had to do. Her mention of children this evening forced it. He had to tell her. He knew this day would eventually come… but he had secretly hoped that it wouldn't. That the thought of toddlers stumbling around on shaky legs never appealed to Shepard.   
  
But her biological clock was evidently beginning to tick. She wanted to have children. To have a house. To have a life outside of getting shot at and cruising the galaxy righting wrongs.   
  
"Garrus?" Shepard pressed, now looking concerned.   
  
"Sorry, I got lost in thought. You know how rarely it happens," he tried to joke. Shepard smiled softly, but her anxious expression didn't change. "I need… to tell you something."   
  
Shepard nodded, her anxiety giving way to concern. "What's wrong?"   
  
Garrus shook his head. He couldn't look at her. He couldn't face those gorgeous eyes as he broke her heart. As he told her she'd never be able to be the mother she dreamed of being.   
  
"Garrus-"   
  
"Shepard, I should have told you this sooner. I should have told you before we came here to Palaven. It wasn't right for me to keep it from you. Spirits, I just wished you'd never find out, but that's impossible."   
  
Shepard sat up slowly.  She had retreated behind her Commander facade. Her face was placid, serene. She slipped into the role so effortlessly it was almost disconcerting.   
  
"Shepard… when you were in the hospital-" Garrus broke off, his voice flanging heavily. There was a lump the size of Manae in his throat. His fear was suffocating him. Something so deeply personal and he had hidden it from her   
  
"When you were in the hospital.…  _ Spirits, _ you were so hurt. The doctors and Miranda… they tried everything they could. But then there was nothing else they could do except take everything out. They had to... there was a hysterectomy."   
  
Shepard's façade cracked. One moment she was blankly staring at him and the next she was laughing. Hysterically. She was doubled over, mirth spilling from her lips. She waved her hand at him as if trying to stop him from talking.   
  
_ "Oh shit,  _ Garrus," she wheezed between giggles, "just stop… stop talking.  _ Oh my God, _ you made me… you made me think you.…" she dissolved into a fit of laughter again, her eyes watering from the gales.   
  
Garrus watched her in utter confusion. What in the hell had possessed such a reaction? Did humans take such news as humorous? Perhaps there was a lot more than Garrus thought when it came to their stages of grief. And then there was a trickle of anger inside of him, something that burned in humiliation. Why was she laughing at him? He was just trying to do what was right, to tell her the truth.   
  
"I'm so sorry," she breathed deeply, attempting to compose herself. "Oh my God, Garrus, that was just.… You made me think you'd cheated on me. Had a fling with an orderly while I was out, or something."   
  
Garrus' mandibles clacked against his face plates in shock. "Shepard! Spirits, I would never-"   
  
Shepard was giggling softly behind a hand. "I know, you were just so serious and seemed so upset, that's what I jumped to." She inhaled deeply, her smile warm. "And don't worry… about what you were trying to say." At his confused look, she added,  _ "I know,  _ Garrus. About my injuries, about my surgeries. Miranda told me the day I woke up.  Not to mention every doctor who had been looking after me told me multiple times.  I mean, I  _ did  _ have my tailbone rebuilt, my kidneys replaced, and my reproductive organs harvested, after all.  They can’t really hide that from a person."   
  
Garrus looked down at his hands, shaking his head. "I should have known she'd tell you. I just thought… you never said anything."   
  
Shepard shrugged. "There's nothing to say. I'm not in pain. I don't feel like less of a woman. I don't even think about it much. I'm lucky to be alive, and that's all there is to it."   
  
"But your dream," he pressed.   
  
Shepard grinned, lying back onto the black sand. "So, that's what this is all about?" Her hands came to rest low on her abdomen, right where her scars were. "I hate to break it to you, big guy, but there was no way we were having kids naturally.  Besides... I told you something back on Earth. Remember when we were in Branson? Our hotel room?"   
  
Garrus chuckled. "We were drunk. We said a lot of strange things."   
  
Shepard smiled. "I may have been drunk, but I remember you asking me if I ever wanted a white picket fence and little Shepards running around."   
  
Garrus nodded, remembering. "And you said maybe. One day."   
  
"Right," Shepard continued, "one day… but I also said I wanted to adopt. To save some orphan from running in a gang or stealing just to survive. And if the reapers come -  _ when the reapers come _ \- there will be a lot of orphans."   
  
Garrus reached out and took Shepard's hand in his. Her strange, five-fingered hand was warm, the calloused palm so familiar. This was Shepard; the woman who set fire to his heart and made his blood race. The woman who was able to bridge the gap between his reckless nature and undying need to make things better. And no matter how long they were together, he was constantly amazed by how utterly  _ good  _ she was.  How strong.   
  
_ I love you,  _ he thought as he watched her. She was looking up at the sky, her mouth drawn into a wistful smile. Garrus leaned down brushing her cheek with his, his mandible scratching gently across her soft face. Shepard chuckled, turning to catch his mouth in a kiss.   
  
"I don't know what I'd do without you," Shepard admitted softly against his plates.   
  
Garrus laughed, brushing his mouth across her forehead. "I know the feeling."   



	9. Paint it Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["Paint it Black," by The Rolling Stones.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4irXQhgMqg)

Shepard awoke with a start when her omni-tool began letting out a shrill series of beeps. She didn't recognize the identifier that flashed across her screen but quickly grabbed her earpiece from the side table anyway. "Shepard."   
  
"Commander, good morning. This is Helda with TAG Forensics."   
  
Shepard nodded tiredly, pulling herself off of the awkward and uncomfortable couch she'd fallen asleep on that night. Garrus had already woken up and, from the sound of it, was in the kitchen with Solana. The pair seemed to be arguing heatedly on whether to add the recipe's optional hot sauce to Shepard's omelet. "Good morning, Helda. Did you find anything in the tox screening?"   
  
"At first, no," Helda admitted. "I sent the reports off to a colleague at STG. One of their contractors was able to find trace amounts of a pretty potent poison."   
  
"And?" Shepard prompted. "Could it have been something he ate here on Palaven or was there signs of injection, or-"   
  
"The poison was something my colleagues and I have never seen before," Helda interrupted, "so it is safe to say it's nothing Chakute could have accidentally picked up on Palaven. We believe Chakute probably began hallucinating heavily before it began shutting down his nervous system."   
  
"And that is why Radi backed off? He could tell his brother was being poisoned?"   
  
Helda sighed. "I know how far-fetched that sounds. From what the scientist explained...." Helda broke off for a moment. "Shepard, the professor is calling in. I'm going to link our calls, give me a moment."   
  
There was a long stretch of silence before Helga murmured, "Professor Solus, we are being joined by Commander Shepard. I thought you might be able to explain this poison better than I could."   
  
"Mordin?" Shepard asked, more than a little surprised to hear he was with STG.   
  
"Shepard, yes. Good to hear from you. Thought to call. Too busy. Then this case. You never stay out of trouble," Mordin greeted, his voice as excitable as she remembered.   
  
Shepard shook her head, unable to keep the smile from her face. "Mordin, can you explain this in laymen's terms?"   
  
"Laymen's terms. Right. No significant background in biology. Explanation of cellular decay lost on you. Must remember, speaking to soldier, not scientist."   
  
Shepard sighed, glancing up as Garrus came into the room, carrying a plate with the largest omelet she had ever seen. He handed her the plate and a plastic fork, which she accepted with a smile. "Garrus says hello, Mordin. Now can you explain it to me or not?"   
  
"Poison originated from flora. Toxic. Highly unstable when mixed with radioactive agents."   
  
Shepard cursed. "Radioactive agents? Who has access to something like this?"   
  
"Anyone in a toxic environment," Helda said softly. "Anyone can make a deadly mixture when they know what they're doing."   
  
"And when they don't," Mordin interrupted. "Probably trying to make tranquilizer. Poison makes no sense. Radioactive material irrelevant. Paralysis intended effect, not poisoning. Can't be sure, but hunch."   
  
"So, our guy's either really skilled or really stupid, and living in a toxic environment? That's all we've got?" Shepard sighed. "I guess it's better than what we had before. Thanks for keeping us informed."   
  
"Of course, Shepard," Helda murmured demurely. "I'll run more tests, see if we can isolate anything."   
  
"Last thing," Mordin added. "Poison from flora. Identified as Angel's Trumpet. Only grown on Earth. Embargo on toxic flora and fauna from leaving Earth. Rules out Citadel Space. Earth must be source."   
  
"That narrows it down," Helda breathed. "I'll pass the information on to Ilode so he can focus the investigation."   
  
"Thank you," Shepard said quickly, her mind reeling. "I'll pass it along my networks, too. I'll let Ilode know if we come up with anything. Mordin, thanks for all of your help."   
  
"Happy to assist," Mordin replied. "Take care. Make sure not to swim after dark. Large nocturnal mammals most similar to extinct megalodon shark in Palaven oceans. Rather not have you eaten."   
  
Shepard smirked. "Thanks, I'll remember that." She disconnected from the call, meeting Garrus' eyes. "Someone from Earth did this."   
  
Garrus nodded, looking concerned. "Are you alright?"   
  
She shrugged, glancing over to the back door. The blood Radi had tracked in was long since cleaned up, but Shepard could still see it in her mind's eye. "It's hard to think someone would do all of this, just to get to me."   
  
Garrus' voice flanged heavily as he sighed. "I know. They're trying to unnerve you."   
  
"Well, mission fucking accomplished," Shepard grumbled, cutting into her omelet. "I need to call Kasumi and let her know what we found out."   
  
"It might not hurt to call Liara, too," Garrus added. "Maybe she can track down a manifest of people leaving Earth and heading toward Palaven?"   
  
Shepard's eyes brightened. "You are brilliant, Garrus."   
  
"That's what you keep me around for," he teased gently, his tone affectionate.   
  


* * *

 

Liara had promised to look into manifests for Palaven-bound earthlings for the prior two weeks. She had warned it would take a while to cross-reference everything, but Shepard felt confident in her. Liara was nothing if not dedicated.

Shepard and Garrus had just set the table for a late dinner on the back patio when a loud siren began wailing. From inside the house. It took Garrus less than a second to grab Shepard and hurtle her back inside.   
  
Solana ran from the kitchen with a gun in hand. Shepard wasn't sure where the gun had come from, and she was honestly too stunned to ask. It was happening again. The perimeter alarm had been tripped; someone was on the property.   
  
"Stay inside," Garrus ordered Shepard, moving to his bag and grabbing his sniper. Solana was already through the back door and on the beach, scanning the perimeter through the murky night.   
  
"Garrus, I'm a Spectre," Shepard argued.   
  
"And you're who they want!" he barked, voice rising.  He sounded angry.  He sounded feral.   
  
Shepard would have been stunned if her adrenaline hadn't overridden her emotions. "They want all of us, remember? We're all supposedly going to pay for my crimes." She turned toward the spare bedroom, calling, "I'm getting my gun! Go out there and help Solana!"   
  
She heard Garrus let out a string of unpleasant words before doing as he was told. Shepard quickened her gait, hurtling into her bedroom. Her hand smashed against the light panel – but no lights came on. Shepard narrowed her eyes through the gloom. She just faintly picked up the outline of the curtains waving in the night breeze.  There was smashed fluorescent tubing littering the carpet, glittering in the moonlight.   
  
Her mind made the connections before her eyes had even finished scanning the dark room. Her window was open. The screen was out. Her light was busted. 

She was being attacked. There wasn't anyone on the beach. They were in her room.

Shepard took a single step backward out of the room, her heart hammering in her chest. Thoughts raced through her mind faster than she could understand them. Someone was in the room. She could either blindly ascertain where they might be, attack, and hope they didn't see it coming. Or she could back out and run like hell for the beach. But then she'd be endangering Garrus and Solana. And if this person had a gun, running wasn't going to do her any good, anyway.   


The dim room began coming into focus as her eyes adjusted. There was no movement at all. The sparse room left nowhere for someone to hide… except under the bed. Not the best place to hide; hard to get in and out from under a bed. Especially if they were trying to wave a gun around. She might have a shot if she got to her gun first.   
  
Shepard was acutely aware of the flash of terror she felt in her heart. She was barefoot, at least – that would work in her favor. She silently padded to the dresser, right next to the door, and grabbed her gun off of it. She slipped her blue Swiss Army knife, a gift from Garrus, into her back pocket.   
  
She took a breath, steeled herself, and dropped to the floor. She fired a shot under the bed, letting out the breath as the bullet left the chamber. Done. It was over.   
  
Just as the thought registered, she heard a faint noise from behind her. A woosh of wood sliding across the floor. The closet door being opened.  The closet hidden behind a tapestry on the wall.  The closet Shepard hadn’t even known was there.   
  
Excruciating pain flared up, hot and intense, from her neck. Shepard's mouth opened, but no words, no sounds, came out. She gasped for breath that would not come. Turning her head, despite how painful it was, she was able to stare into the face of her attacker. She felt recognition, shock, and understanding flood her in one mighty rush.   
  
She had no time to think anything other than,  _ Oh shit, there’s a closet,  _ before her world went black.


	10. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> **Chapter Warning:** Torture. 
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["Set Fire to the Third Bar," by](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bfa9yxCpWoA)

Solana watched her brother helplessly as he shouted into his earpiece. He was pacing. Garrus never paced. In her lifetime of knowing him, he had always been cool and composed under pressure. He had never been like this. His voice had never broken in the middle of a sentence – not even when he found out about their mother's disease.   
  
Solana moved to intercept his path when he disconnected from his call. She reached out quickly, cupping his arm with a hand. "Garrus-"   
  
"I know," he said quickly. "She's fine. She knows how to protect herself. She's strong." His words were hollow. He didn't sound like he was very sure of them which worried Solana even more.   
  
"Garrus, you need to sit. I'll make you something to drink and-"   
  
"No," he said quickly. "I need to be out there. I need to be looking-"   
  
"Ilode has the entire force out there looking for her," Solana attempted to calm him. It only made him more agitated; he tore his arm out of her grasp and went to the dining table. A large holo map had been set up by Ilode and his Guard. Red lines had been drawn all over, marking where they were setting up air and ground perimeters.   
  
"Guards have already been sent to the spaceports," Solana was saying gently. "They aren't getting off of Palaven with her."   
  
Garrus turned to her, his eyes feverishly bright. "They won't try to leave with her. Don't you remember? They want to hurt us all. They're holed up somewhere. Waiting for us to come to them."   
  
"We need to tell Ilode-"   
  
"No," Garrus snapped. "I am not letting him catch this bastard. I am going to kill him myself."   
  
"Garrus, don't endanger her further!" Solana attempted, her voice flanging. "If you take this on as a personal vendetta, you'll get the both of you killed!" She shook her head, mandibles quaking in anxiety. "I won't allow this, Garrus. I'm calling Ilode."   
  
Garrus bit back a flood of anger that he almost let out onto his sister. Instead, he took a deep breath and turned back to the map. His talon traced above the glowing blue landmarks, as if trying to feel Shepard's presence at any of them.   
  
He couldn't shake the sight of her from his mind's eye. He couldn't forget the look of utter serenity shining on her face their night spent down at the quarry. How she laughed with abandon while racing Andronea across the sandy shrubland at the Gorge. Or the way she curled up against him just perfectly, her head tucked against his cowl.   
  
His fists were shaking. His throat threatened to give way to raspy gasps of pain, of real hurt. He turned, smashing his fist into the wall. The top layer of stone crumbled under his fist, turning to dust. The pain blossoming across his fingers sharpened his mind, made him focus on all of the small details. Shepard's smile, the way she bit her lower lip whenever she was reading, how her eyelashes fluttered against his faceplates so gently when they kissed, the smatter of freckles across her shoulders, the emerald of her wide eyes, the way she moved against him….   
  
He punched the wall again, and again, and kept punching. Solana was there suddenly, her voice breaking as she begged him to stop. He glanced at Solana's open, fearful face – saw the thinly veiled terror in her blue eyes. And then he looked at his hand. Blue blood speckled the wall and his hand where the stone bit through the tough, leathery plates.   
  
"I'm scared," he whispered.   
  
"I know," Solana murmured, pulling him into her arms. He held onto her tightly, letting her murmur reassurances.   
  
The front door flew open and Garrus turned sharply, going for his sidearm. Instead of an attacker, however, it was his father. "Dad?"   
  
"I heard about Shepard," Castis said quickly, his voice clipped and controlled. "What do we know?"   
  
Solana breezed through a briefing, allowing Garrus to collect himself. If there was one person that Garrus didn't want to see him in the middle of a breakdown, it was Castis.   
  
Castis nodded through the briefing and took a seat in front of the map. "Well, we're wasting time just sitting here," Castis said brusquely. "Solana, stay here in case there is a ransom or other call. Or if, spirits be praised, Shepard somehow makes it back on her own. Garrus, you and I will go out and help the search."   
  
"You, father?" Solana asked, shock coloring her tone.   
  
"Me," he replied sharply. "I was one of the best damn C-Sec and TAG agents back in my day, young lady." His eyes turned to Garrus and he added, "I put a call into Primarch Fedorian. He sent a few of his lieutenants to help the search."   
  
Garrus felt relief and something very akin to hope flooding through him. "Dad… I…." he broke off and shook his head. "Why?"   
  
Castis look perturbed. "Why would he send aid? She's a Spectre, for one. And she's a human that doesn't go running for the hills, or pull out her guns, at the sight of a turian. We can't have one of the most beloved humans of our time killed on our planet, boy. You know that."   
  
Garrus shook his head. "I know, I mean… why are you here? You don't even like Shepard."   
  
Castis grunted something before sighing. "I never said I  _ disliked _ her, I simply find her methods questionable.  What matters is that you like her and she's your  _ felairte...  _ or so I am hoping. I would hate to find out I am risking resources, favors, and my own time for some pyjak who breaks your heart within a week."   
  
Garrus was too thankful to take offense. "Let's go. We can't find her if we're here talking."   
  
Just as they made it to the door, Garrus' omni-tool buzzed with an incoming call from Liara. He patched it through to his earpiece. "Liara, tell me you have good news."   
  
"I have news," she rushed, her voice panicked. "But it's not good. She's in danger, Garrus. Finch has her."   
  


* * *

 

Shepard awoke with a start. Her neck was still throbbing and everything wavered in and out of focus. She shook her head, trying to clear her vision. The motion only made her head spin and her vision swirl.   
  
"You're awake," a very familiar voice said.  "Sorry about the tranquilizer. You don't seem to be coming down from it very well."   
  
Shepard ignored the voice, using the brief reprieve to quickly take in her situation. She didn't need her complete vision to tell her it was dire. She was bound at her hands and feet - shackles, prison-grade by the feel of them. There was no give when she wriggled her hands, the polymer fitted too snugly to her small wrists.   
  
She was in a cellar of some sort, from what she could tell. It was damp and smelled like mold. She was sitting against something that made a humming noise. An old cooling unit was her best guess without seeing it.   
  
And, the most important observation - there was no way out.    
  
"What the hell are you doing here, Finch?" Shepard asked, voice cracking.   
  
Finch laughed, but it wasn’t amused. "Oh, babe. I've missed you so much. I can't even tell you how thrilled I was to see you on the Citadel. Remember that? Almost, what… three years ago?"   
  
"I remember," Shepard grunted, closing her eyes to keep her vision from spiraling. "You were trying to get me to break one of the crew out of C-Sec. Now, remind me… he was in there for a hate crime against a turian, right?"   
  
"Your memory's good for a dead girl," Finch chuckled. Shepard heard his boots coming closer. She was being hoisted upward, but she couldn't feel his hands on her. ”What the fuck did you give me?” she demanded but her voice held no heat.  She sounded dead already. 

”What the fuck did you give me?” she demanded but her voice held no heat.  She sounded dead already. 

He didn’t answer.  Instead, he posing his own question.  "So, Shep…. What the hell are you doing here with these freaks?"

"What did you inject me with?" Shepard groaned. She was beginning to feel like being sick.   
  
"Just a homemade tranq," he whispered, his lips close to her ear. "The Tenth Street Reds are a lot bigger now, babe. We've got chemists and biotics and soldiers. We've got eyes everywhere. Think how thrilled I was to hear you showed up for a little R-and-R here on Palaven. And playing house with some spiny lizard things. If I hadn't been so revolted, it'd be touching."   
  
"What do you want?" Shepard asked, daring to open her eyes. Finch was too close to her. His lips hovered right above hers.   
  
Finch smiled, and the poisonous tranquilizer running through her system made him look demonic. His grip released her arms and she teetered dangerously, her knees threatening to buckle. Finch's smile widened and he kicked her left knee, sending her stumbling into the machine behind her.   
  
Shepard let out a cry as her head thumped against the cold metal. She slid down to the ground, looking up at Finch as if through a haze. She couldn't feel her legs, but somehow she knew the left one was broken.   
  
"I want you to suffer," he murmured. "I want to show you what happens when you turn against your brothers and sisters. I am going to make you wish I was nice enough to kill you… and then I am going to murder your lover in front of you.  Maybe even his little sister. Maybe his fucking dad, Shepard.  How would you like that?  Or maybe his crippled mom…."   
  
Shepard felt the bile rising in her throat. She bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to say anything, to give anything away.   
  
Finch smiled down at her; the look on his face was almost kind in its own way; like he pitied her. "This could have been so different," he murmured. "It could have been so fucking great, Shepard. I wish you could see how much the Reds have grown. And you could have been part of that. The queen.  Queen Dove.  Do you still remember we called you that?" he asked, running a hand across her face.  “Dove… so fitting for this pale, pale skin, this deceptively innocent little face.”   
  
Shepard closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly. "I would have never been your queen. I'm not the same, Finch. I'm not a cold-blooded murderer."   
  
"I guess that depends on your definition, huh?" Finch chuckled. He crouched down next to her, taking her hands in his. "Now, see, I know who you were. And you never killed anyone with the Reds. You almost did – those two scraps that got you locked up? I remember those very well. Remember who got you out?"   
  
Shepard swallowed deeply. "You did."   
  
"I did," he agreed kindly. "I got you out. Now see, with the Reds, you never killed anyone. But since you've been gone? Shit, babe, if you're not a murderer, I don't know who is." Finch began to hum a little tune, his hand running along her left arm. Without warning, he shoved her hands up and above her head, hand gliding down her bicep. He then growled something loudly and angrily. "Where are the tattoos? The prison tattoos?"   
  
"I died, you idiot," she snapped, unable to bite it back anymore. Her head felt like it was going to explode. "They reconstructed my body. No one knew about those tattoos."   
  
"Except your little boyfriend, am I right?" Finch snapped, slamming her hands into the fridge. She let out a soft cry, feeling one of her fingers dislocate from the force. The pain was dull, though - nothing compared to the throbbing in her head. "Am I right?" he demanded.   
  
"Yes," she hissed between her teeth.   
  
Finch chuckled and then there was something very sharp and very cold against her bicep. Shepard's eyes opened in time to see her knife, the knife Garrus had given her, draw across her skin in a square motion. "Let's see if I can remember those designs properly. I'll make sure these don't go away. You'll die the dumb, coked-out prison bitch you used to be."   
  
Shepard watched the knife cut down past flesh and into muscle. She watched it all with something akin to fascination. The blood was flowing heaving from her arm, soaking into the armpit of her tank top. It was probably a mercy that the poison seemed to have dampened all pain receptors.

“Remember when you got this one?” he breathed as he worked.  “That turian, right next to the International Fountain.  His blood was everywhere. It got sucked into the filtration unit and was shooting out of the fountain, over and over, a dark blue marring the water.  Can’t  believe he lived.  Lucky for you, I guess, or you’d have died in jail by now.”

Shepard closed her eyes and refused to answer.  Her tongue felt like lead.  Her heart was breaking in half at the reminder of her biggest mistake, the turian she almost murdered for no other reason than she had been Dove and Dove needed to sully her wings for the Reds.   
  
Her omni-tool interface lit up with an incoming call. Finch paused from his work, looking annoyed. "Well… this won't do. I can't have people calling my Dove while I am performing her transformation. That would just be… rude."   
  
He lowered her arms and sliced deep into her forearm, digging his fingers into the flesh and feeling around for her omni-tool's implanted interface. It was either the pain that she couldn't feel, or perhaps all of the blood, that forced Shepard's world to fade into blissful blackness.


	11. Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> **Chapter Warning:** Torture.
> 
> The chapter's title song is ["Pyro," by Kings of Leon.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFp7q-IJqno)

Shepard's eyes opened for the first time in what felt like an eternity. She tried to blink the gunk of protein out of her eyes as she slowly began to regain her senses. The first smell that wafted to her nose was blood. The tang of copper and stone seemed to cling to her throat, as well.   
  
"You awake?" a soft voice asked from the shadows. A lithe figure, at least five years Shepard’s junior, stepped into view. Her features were soft, her eyes compassionate. She knelt down beside Shepard, reaching out with a wet rag. She drew the cool cloth over Shepard's cheek, murmuring, "I knew I shouldn't have left you alone with him. He gets a little out of hand sometimes, you know. Theatrical."   
  
Shepard winced as the cloth found a knife track on her neck. The wound stung, but it had obviously not been deep enough to cause real damage. "Why-" Shepard began, her voice rasping. She tried to clear her throat, but it felt like cotton was stuffed down her trachea.   
  
"Shepard, don't ask such silly things," the girl chuckled humorlessly, lifting Shepard's arm to study the wounds there. She began wiping the blood from the area, careful with the newly-carved prison insignias. "You probably provoked him. Finch doesn't like being provoked."   
  
Shepard shook her head, trying again. "No, I meant… why are you helping me?"   
  
The woman smiled, her eyes finally meeting Shepard's. They were so similar to Shepard's own eyes that it made her start. It was almost like looking at a younger, less filled out version of herself.  Aside from the short, tousled blonde hair, it made Shepard feel like she was seeing what she would have become if she'd stayed with the Reds. "I've always thought you were a pretty decent human… aside from bedding aliens," she added with a faint chuckle. She went back to caring for Shepard's underarm. "I joined the Reds not long after you left. Finch took a shine to me – one guess as to why?"   
  
"You look like me."   
  
"Bingo," she replied evenly. There was no sign of anger at the fact, just acceptance.   
  
The girl continued to care for Shepard's wounds, methodical and easy in her movements. After she finished cleaning the wounds, she smeared a medi-gel salve over them. The girl then leaned back on her heels, tilting her head to the side. "There. Your shirt is completely ruined, but you don't look like you were tossed off a cliff anymore." She stood, throwing the bloodstained cloth into a dish of water in the corner, letting it soak out.   
  
"So, tell me, Shepard," the girl began, moving back into the shadows as she spoke, "what's with the turian family?" The girl was doing something there in the shadows – Shepard could hear the scrape of metal against metal, a _ting_ of something being dropped.   
  
Shepard braced herself for another round of torture. She had allowed herself to think that this girl was just another innocent bystander to Finch's madness… but she was probably just as crazy. She would have to be, to keep running with a gang like the Reds.   
  
"Shepard?" the girl called, a lilt of laughter in her tone. "Come on, now, don't leave me hanging! I would sincerely love to know what's so special about them. Why would you choose one over your own kind? Tell me he's hung like a horse, at least… I mean, I can't think of any other reason."   
  
The girl emerged from the shadows. To Shepard's surprise, it wasn't a series of weapons she carried; it was a bowl. "I guess you can answer me after you eat." She took a seat beside Shepard, the smell of soup heavenly as it filled the space around them. "Finch told me clam chowder was your favorite," she added, spooning up some of the creamy soup and bringing it to Shepard's lips.   
  
Shepard allowed the girl to feed her, for no other reason than she was famished, and her body was broken, and her will could only stand up against one type of abuse at a time. She ate in silence, the girl allowing her to take her time to eat and savor the taste of homemade chowder.   
  
When she finished the bowl, the girl was grinning. "Good girl. I'll give you more in a bit."  She stood, moving back into the shadows. "Now, I would love an answer to my previous question. Your turian?"   
  
Shepard looked down at the dark, dirty floor she sat on. Her dislocated leg had been reset while she slept, and now it was braced against a board. Her cuts were sore but healing, thanks to the medi-gel. This girl had given her no reason to mistrust her… but she did anyway.  "What's your name?" Shepard asked suddenly.   
  
She reemerged from the shadows, her smile still in place. It reminded Shepard, oddly, of the Cheshire Cat from an ancient vid she'd seen as a child. "My real name doesn't matter. Everyone here calls me Lark."   
  
"Lark," Shepard repeated. Something inside her coiled, but she wasn't sure why. Her face was familiar.  It was more than just looking similar to Shepard.  There was something else about it, something that made Shepard’s stomach curdle   
  
"Like the songbird," Lark added, her smile still in place. "Lark was Finch's idea, of course. I would have preferred something cooler, but it stuck…." She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "Hey, I was asking the questions!"   
  
Shepard smiled weakly despite herself. "I don't know what you want me to say. Why does anyone choose their partner?" She leaned back against the refrigerator she was strapped to. "He saved my life more times than I care to count. He's always been there for me. He… he needs me, and I need him, and it just worked out that way."   
  
Lark's face scrunched up. "You love him." It was said almost accusatorily.   
  
"I…" Shepard floundered, feeling her face heating up. Why was she blushing over this? She was tied to a refrigerator, she wasn't even sure what planet she was on, and she was suffering from blood loss and recent poisoning.  _ All of that, and yet you’re embarrassed to be in love with your boyfriend? _   
  
Lark shuddered, shaking her head. "I don't get it. I mean, looks may not be everything but they've got to be part of it, right?" She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat before shrugging. "Whatever. I get why Finch is angry now.  Ousted for a bird. I'd be offended, too."   
  
At that moment, there was a loud creaking noise from above them, followed by a chaotic chorus of metal screeching and groaning. Lark cursed under her breath. "Well, speak of the Devil and he shall appear. Hopefully he's less psychotic this time around."   
  
Shepard felt adrenaline burst inside of her, her muscles tensing and mind focusing. "Lark, you don't have to do this. I get that you think you agree with them, but the Reds are a bunch of sadistic murderers. You can let me go and I will get you amnesty. You can start over – I can help you!"   
  
Lark met Shepard's gaze evenly, her Cheshire grin never wavering. "Shepard, don't be silly. I am happy where I am. I don't think you could help me any more than I have helped myself."   
  
There were footsteps coming closer – down a flight of stairs if Shepard had to guess. Shepard remembered his gait, remembered how heavy footed he was. Remembered his whistling… the tune he rattled off as he descended the stairs sent chills through her body.   
  
Finch joined them in the sparsely lit room, grinning like a kid on Christmas day. "Shepard, looking as ravishing as ever. Looks like Lark's been playing nursemaid."   
  
"You know me," Lark murmured, leaning back against the wall beside Shepard. "I just love cleaning up other people's messes."   
  
Finch chuckled. "Ain't that the truth? Always cleaning up messes. That's why you're the brains of this rag-tag bunch, boss."   
  


* * *

 

Garrus and his father were back at Solana's house after ten straight hours of scouring Cipritine. Garrus had called everyone he could think to call and was still waiting for a flash of inspiration from anyone.   
  
"Seventy-two hours is usually all kidnapping victims have," Castis was saying, his mandibles flaring. "We're almost at thirty-three hours. What do we have?"   
  
"All space terminals are detaining humans leaving, and entering, Palaven," one of the Guards spoke up. "There's no way she's making it off the planet. Anyone with a criminal past who might be tied to the Reds is being detained."   
  
"What about buildings?" Garrus asked, trying his best not to sound frazzled. He needed to have a clear head. He couldn't show that he was a chaotic mess. "Do we have anything on possible buildings in the area?"   
  
"Not yet," another Guard piped up from where she was sifting through data on Solana's home terminal. "I'm going through all tax records, and I have someone with the planetary assessor's office going through them, as well, to see what we dig up."   
  
Garrus' omni-tool lit up at that moment, the identifier a strange mix of letters and numbers. He patched the call through to his earpiece. "Vakarian."   
  
"Garrus, I've got something," Kasumi's voice came through, sounding breathy. "I was able to sync in with your sister's terminal and sleuth along with your Guards. I found something a little fishy; can't guarantee it's something, though."   
  
"Anything is better than nothing, Kasumi," Garrus said, moving over to the terminal. "I'm putting you on speaker so we can look at the same file," he added, patching her back to his omni-tool interface. "We're ready when you are."   
  
"Okay," Kasumi muttered, taking a deep breath. "Go to the zoning district 3549. There's an abandoned warehouse that is showing up as parcel 43, in the middle of nowhere. No taxes were paid on it for the past thirty-seven years, and then all of a sudden, two years ago…."   
  
The Guard typed in the information quickly, and suddenly a long line of tax information filtered across the interface. "Someone started paying taxes on an abandoned warehouse?" Garrus murmured. "How does this even make sense?"   
  
"Here," the Guard spoke up. "The deed to the warehouse was purchased from the city of Kaltine by a group called Red Industries, saying they wanted to restart the mining operation from forty years prior. No mining permits were ever purchased and there has been no sign of operations."   
  
"Right," Kasumi hurried them along. "So, two years ago this warehouse is bought under the pretense that they're going to start mining. No mining rights were purchased, no mining is going on, but utilities and taxes are paid promptly…and made from an untraceable credit chit each time."   
  
"Send me the full address," Garrus bade the Guard, already moving for the door. Castis was holstering his gun, a similar idea in mind.   
  
"That warehouse is about two-hundred and fifteen klicks from your current location," Kasumi added.   
  
"We'll lend you a Guard escort," one of the Ilode's men piped up, getting to their feet and scampering out the door.   
  
"Garrus," Thane's rough voice filtered over Kasumi's link, "be careful. The satellite images show three vehicles outside of the warehouse at regular intervals. There are more people there than just Finch."   
  
"It doesn't matter how many people are there," Garrus grunted, making his way toward Castis' hover vehicle. The Guard vehicle already had its lights on, swirling blue and gold light across the early morning sky. "I am going to kill every single one of them."   
  
The line was quiet for a moment before Thane answered gently, "Amonkira watch you and guide you, my friend. Find her and bring her home."   
  
"I will," Garrus promised, and knew that it was a promise he would keep – or die trying.   



	12. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
>  **Chapter Warning:** Torture. Brief depiction of violent death.
> 
> The title song for this chapter is ["One Red Thread," by Blind Pilot.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0c4aDKsX-TU) Enjoy!

Shepard held very still while Finch kicked her. She tried not to focus on her searing ribs, or how difficult it was becoming to breathe. Instead, she focused on Lark's eyes, taking in the sight from where she still leaned against the wall. The younger woman's gaze was void of any emotion as if she was absently watching varren chasing sticks in the park.   
  
A solid blow landed to Shepard's kidney and she let out a strangled gasp, feeling her body attempt a fetal position on its own accord. Metal bit into her neck from where Finch has strapped a new _toy._ Shepard could feel the blood pooling around her collarbone as the metal tore into her flesh.   
  
"I think the razor wire was a bit much, Finch," Lark commented wryly, pushing off of the wall and coming over to Shepard's wheezing form. "Poor duckling. I bet you didn't anticipate your vacation going down like this, did you?"   
  
Finch stepped away, panting from exertion. His voice was that of a thrilled child when he said, "Don't feel so sorry for her, Lark. Last I checked, you're the one who okayed this little detour."   
  
Lark said nothing but grabbed a pair of gardening gloves from where they were sitting on the floor. She slid them over her fingers before reaching out, tentatively pulling the razor wire from around Shepard's neck. The small barbs tugged as they pulled away from the skin, making Shepard wince.   
  
Lark sighed, shaking her head. "You're going to kill her before the bird even gets here if you keep this up," she said, though her tone remained unaffected. "I know how you like to be theatrical. I think that might ruin a bit of your fun, wouldn't it?"   
  
Finch made a noise in the back of his throat. "Yeah, well… what the hell did you expect, Lark? I've been waiting for this moment for three years."   
  
Lark shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. "I guess I expected you not to ruin your own plan. Silly of me, I know."   
  
A scratchy voice was suddenly filling the room. "Lark, it's Jay; you there? Over."   
  
Lark let out a hefty sigh. "Yeah, what's up?"   
  
"Over," Finch reminded.   
  
There was a moment of silence before Lark added an annoyed, "Over." To Finch, she snapped, "We live in an age of abundant technology and we're using these walkie-talkie precursors? What the hell were we thinking?"   
  
Jay was continuing to talk over the walkie-talkie, unaware of Lark's aggravated speech. "-been getting some satellite tracking interference. Someone found us, I think. Should I get the men ready, over?"   
  
Lark didn't answer right away, making Shepard feel like she was suffocating in the silence. Shepard knew they would come. She knew that Garrus would not give up until he found her. Yet, somewhere deep within her soul, she had hoped that he wouldn't come. Finch's transformation was not that surprising to her, but the fact that the Reds were now a galactic entity was. If the Reds had enough men on Palaven to command at a whim, what kinds of things were in store for Garrus and the others?   
  
"Yes, get everyone ready," Lark finally answered. "Keep them low and hidden at first. Set up the turrets under cover and hope that takes them out. I'd rather not have a firefight so close to where we keep the bioweapons," she added, almost as an afterthought. "Over."   
  
"Yes ma'am, over and out."   
  
Shepard managed to look up at Lark through the spill of blood dampening her sight. The cut her forehead must have opened up again. "Bioweapons?" she repeated.   
  
Finch chuckled. "I told you we'd changed."   
  
"You're terrorists," Shepard spat.   
  
"No, never that," Lark interrupted, her Cheshire smile back. "We never drop the bombs, duckling. We just sell them to the highest bidder."   
  
"And supplying terrorists with weapons is so much better?" Shepard demanded as forcefully as her bruised lungs would allow.   
  
Lark shrugged delicately. "I sell weapons of destruction; you bang turians. Different strokes for different folks and all that." She turned from Shepard, her cool eyes meeting Finch's. "Here," she muttered, tossing him her walkie-talkie. "You're in charge here; don't do anything stupid. I have to get off this hell hole of a planet if I plan on meeting with the Illusive Man in Omega by the end of the week. I'm going to take some of the biobombs with me as a… demonstration."   
  
Shepard gritted her teeth. She should have known. Who would be a better benefactor and brother-in-arms for the xenophobic, terror-sponsoring Reds than Cerberus? "Lark."   
  
Lark turned, her smile softening. "Yes, my dear?"   
  
Shepard took as deep of a breath as her aching body would allow. She let it out, met Lark's eyes dead on, and promised, "I will end you."   
  
Lark grinned, her whiter than white teeth flashing. "Aww, I am sure you will try, duckling. And I do hope, for all of our sakes, you try very hard. Nothing would please me more than having you as a nemesis."   
  
She turned away again. "Don't screw this up, Finch," she warned, her body moving into the shadows and up a flight of creaky stairs.   
  


* * *

 

The base looked particularly deserted to Garrus. They had parked a mile down from the warehouse, just to be safe, and walked the remainder. As they neared the mining warehouse, Garrus began to smell something.   
  
"Varren blood," One of Ildoe's Guard spoke up, motioning toward a stain of crimson on the surrounding grass. "This looks like the commercial stuff you can get for hunting. Low grade, but does the trick. Someone has been luring some big wildlife here."   
  
"What would the Reds want with wildlife?" Garrus asked aloud.   
  
"Why don't we ask them?" Castis muttered darkly, lining up his rifle and staring through the scope. "Something isn't right about this. Things are too quiet."   
  
"How many people do you expect to be operating out of here? It's just a small warehouse. I would think it's Finch and a few others, at most," the other Guard piped in.   
  
The group slowly moved up the road, nearing the shed-like structure. They were nearly two hundred meters away when a soft whirring noise caught Garrus' attention. Castis seemed to hear it, too, and shouted, "Find cover!"   
  
The ground around them seemed to explode in a flurry of bullets. A turret gun had arisen from a nearby bush and began spewing bullets at the party. Another turret emerged from beside the warehouse, and another from beside a scraggly tree.   
  
Garrus grabbed one of the Guard agents by the arm, tossing him behind a conveniently abandoned crate. Castis had already dropped behind the box, her mandibles flaring. The other agent was on the ground, unmoving.   
  
Garrus ducked behind the crate, his heart hammering in his chest. Three turrets and that was just what had been triggered by their proximity.  _ How many are there? _ __   
  
Castis seemed to be thinking the same thing. "We should have waited for more back up," he grumbled. "There's more firepower here than you led me to believe the Reds had access to."   
  
"We're going in blind," the other Guard agreed, already pulling up his omni-tool. "Ilode and another five men are on their way. Should be here in about twenty minutes."   
  
"I'm not waiting," Garrus said simply. "I can't."   
  
"Garrus," Castis began gruffly.   
  
"No, Dad, I am not leaving Shepard in there," he snapped. "I am not leaving her in their hands longer than I already have. You would have done the same for Mom."   
  
Castis bit back the retort that had been forming. He sat there for a moment, regarding his son, before nodding. "Fine. But I am not letting my only son go into harm's way without some backup."   
  
Garrus was too fearful to be thankful. He raised his rifle, breaking cover long enough to let off three rounds into the closest turret. The machine crackled and spit electricity before tearing apart at the base. Bullets scattered in a wide arc, one landing squarely in Garrus' arm. The medi-gel was already being dispensed by his suit, working to repair the bruising. His shield flared as they struggled to defend the newly weakened point on his arm.   
  
Castis took out the second turret with an overload blast, which sent the thing spiraling away. The turret landed on a grassy hill, which collapsed under the weight. Garrus watched, surprised, as what was once a normal-looking hill was destroyed, leaving a bunker and fifteen humans in its wake.   
  
"Damn crafty neanderthals," Castis grunted, loading a few more rounds into his rifle and taking out four of the stunned humans. "They could be anywhere. Watch your step for the hidden bunkers."   
  
The Guard had finished destroying the third turret and was slowly moving out of cover, his pistol working overtime to keep up with his constant barrage of bullets. He and Castis had the bunker of humans dead before they had time to grab their weapons.   
  
The trio moved toward the bunker silently, no longer relying on speech. A walkie-talkie was blaring in the destroyed foxhole. "I repeat! Hole 10? Stork?! Is anyone still there, over?!"   
  
The Guard glanced around the uneven terrain, his brow furrowing. "Hole 10?"   
  
Castis reached into his pack, grabbing a few incendiary grenades. "Only one way to find out where these damned humans are hiding." With that, he began lobbing grenades toward all of the raised areas. Dirt and gravel were sent flying, leaving exposed foxholes and bunkers in their wake.   
  
And each one was filled to the brimming with very angry, very armored humans.   
  


* * *

 

The sound of explosions set Shepard's teeth on edge. It certainly sounded like a small army outside. Even so, she felt uneasy.

Especially when Finch began laughing.   "Three turians? That's it? The ignorant lizard of yours only brought two people! What the hell was he thinking?"   
  
Shepard couldn't help the wry smile that twisted her mouth. "We always go in threes. That's how missions work."   
  
Finch rolled his eyes. "Then you're an imbecile, and so is he. Strength in numbers, sweetie."   
  
Just as the sentiment left his mouth, the walkie-talkie crackled to life. "Lark! Finch!"   
  
Finch grabbed the walkie-talkie from his belt. "This is Finch, what is it, over?"   
  
The person on the other line was yelling above the sound of explosions. "We're being bombarded from all sides! They brought in air support!"   
  
Shepard's grin was hard to contain. She almost began to cry, she was so thankful to hear that backup was called in. Her throat was swollen from the razor wire's abuse, but also from her choking relief.   
  
Finch turned to her, murder in his eyes. "This… this is not happening."   
  
Shepard couldn't help herself. She kept smiling. "What's wrong, Finch? Didn't anticipate there being an entire brigade of turians who might want to kill your xenophobic ass?"   
  
Finch lashed out, catching her cheek with the walkie-talkie. Shepard coughed blood onto her lap, feeling her molars rattling in her jaw. The doctors at Cipritine Medical were going to have a handful when Shepard made it there.  _  If I make it there,  _ Shepard thought listlessly.   
  
Finch began untying Shepard's bindings on her wrists, only to snap a pair of tight handcuffs in their place. He dragged her up to her feet, which made Shepard sway, unbalanced on her planked leg. "Come on, Dove," he cooed, pulling her along. "Let's see how well you can dance with that knee."   
  


* * *

 

Garrus' breath was fogging up his visor as he ran toward the warehouse. Air support had obliterated most of the Reds on the ground. The few stragglers that still managed to live through the first assault were being hunted down on foot by Castis, Ilode, and a handful of his men. Most of the humans were probably going to be killed, Garrus knew. They had opened fire on officers, civilians, and managed to kill one. A few might be taken in for questioning and sentencing, but it was a pointless mercy, in Garrus' eyes.   
  
Just as Garrus drew close to the warehouse, the massive metal door swung upward. Finch stood there, a gun in one hand, the other supporting a bloody and almost unrecognizable female form.   
  
"So, lizard," Finch jeered, "how do you like your little slut now?"   
  
Garrus' blood boiled as he took in the sight of Shepard. Her left leg was strapped to a crude plank to keep it straight. Cuts and flesh wounds marred almost every inch of her.  Her neck was a mess of bruising and lacerations and her face was a mess of color – purple, yellow and black. From the way she was bowed to protect her left flank, Garrus had to guess she was suffering from broken ribs.   
  
"Not so pretty anymore, is she?" Finch continued, kicking the back of Shepard's good knee. She went limp with a cry, Finch's arm the only thing holding her upright.   
  
"Let her go," Garrus growled.   
  
"Or else what?" Finch laughed incredulously. "You'll kill me?"   
  
"I am going to kill you anyway," he returned, voice low and mandibles flaring wide, settling with a clack against his face. "And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”   
  
"Garrus," Shepard wheezed, her eyelids fluttering as she tried to look at him.   
  
"Hold on, Shepard," Garrus replied. "I've got you."   
  
Finch only smiled patiently. "Really?" He raised the gun to Shepard's temple, cocking an eyebrow. “Say, lizard… did she ever tell you about that guy she almost killed at Seattle Square?”  when Garrus said nothing, Finch nodded.  “She did, didn’t see? I mean, you saw the tattoos.  You had to have asked.  But did she tell you who she almost killed?”

Shepard wobbled, nearly falling, but Finch yanked her into him.  “It was a turian.  Some turian kid there with his military dad.  He wasn’t much older than us, you know?  Just a kid. What was that? You were… shit, you had to have been fourteen.  He was... maybe sixteen? Who knows, hard to tell with you fucking aliens.  Anyway.  She attacked him with all her power, whoo, let me tell you.”  He chuckled, shaking his head.  “I wanted to ask her to marry me that night.  My little Dove, coating those wings in blue blood.”

Garrus swallowed but did not waver, did not even blink.

“You remember his name, Shepard?” Finch continued, shaking Shepard and making her sway.  “Of course you remember his name.  Hey, tell your boyfriend the name of the turian you tried to kill.”  

Shepard’s lower lip was quivering.  Garrus wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen her like this - so defeated.  So broken.

Finch smacked her across the temple with the butt of his gun and she went slack, Finch’s grip the only thing keeping her upright.

“You touch her one more fucking time-”

“Say his name!” Finch shouted in her ear.

"Kandros,” she spat.  Her voice was wavering, weak.  “Tiran Kandros.”

Finch laughed and turned his smirking face to Garrus. "So. What now? You can shoot, but that won't stop me from putting a bullet through her head."   
  
"Don't fucking move," Garrus warned, voice cold.   
  
"Garrus," Shepard murmured softly, her voice rasping. He met her eyes, so full of pain, and she smiled sadly. "I'm sorry. About what I said with… with Doctor Michel."   
  
The words didn't register at first. For a few seconds, Garrus puzzled over her meaning. Doctor Michel?  Michel had been one of the supporting doctors that helped with Shepard’s surgeries, but Shepard had never mentioned her in conversation. What in the world could she have to be sorry for?   
  
And then it clicked. When the thugs attacked Michel, back before Garrus was one of her crew, Shepard had scolded Garrus' recklessness. She had told him he was crazy for taking the shot when they had Michel as a hostage.   
  
"I was wrong," Shepard added pointedly, even though she seemed to be struggling to keep her eyes open.   
  
Garrus nodded, the weight of his rifle seeming heavier than ever. She wanted him to pull the trigger. To take a chance at harming, or even killing, her. Garrus wasn't sure if he had the stomach to do it, but, at that moment, a sharp clatter caught Finch's attention.   
  
Someone, probably Castis, had thrown an incendiary grenade into the warehouse. The sound of it hitting the metal was all Garrus could hear for a moment. As shock began to register on Finch's face, the grenade exploded. Dust and shrapnel flew and Garrus took the moment of stunned, ringing silence to drop his rifle and hurtle into Finch.   
  
Garrus felt time stand still. He had Finch pinned and watched as his fist connected with the human's face, over and over. He barely noticed the fact that Finch's weapon was no longer trained on Shepard; it was on him. He barely noticed Finch pull the trigger; barely noticed the sound of the round escaping the barrel. Instead, he kept punching, and then when all Garrus could see was blood and pink matter, he tore his talons into the neck, finding the trachea and ripping it out.   
  
A strangled cry made it past the bloodlust, and Garrus turned in time to see Shepard. She was teetering, falling forward, unable to balance on her broken body any longer. Ilode was rushing to her, so fast yet so slow. In a rush of luck, he managed to catch her before she hit the ground. Her eyes were closed, but her chest was rising and falling in breath. Three other turian Guards were flocking to them, guns ready and aimed at the fallen Finch. One was calling for all medical teams within the surrounding fifty kilometers. The other two were watching Garrus with something like horror.   
  
Garrus closed his eyes. _ Everything is fine now. Everything is how it should be. _   
  
Garrus felt his heart hammering in his chest and let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He moved to the side of Finch's slack, obliterated body and tried to breathe, tried to ignore the blood spilling from his neck. The bullet nestled there wasn't painful. Nothing hurt anymore. Everything was just fine. Shepard was safe. Shepard would live.   
  
Garrus smiled to himself, letting his body slump to the ground. It was a good way to die, all in all.   



	13. Yellow Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["Yellow Light," by Of Monsters and Men.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aBlKPLeLU_s) Please enjoy!

Shepard had been out of commission for the better part of two weeks. By the time her brain swelling and overall trauma were remedied, her leg had healed and her ribs were on their way to normal. Her bruising was mostly gone, much to her surprise, but there was a new scar necklace around her throat from where the razor wire had torn her skin to pieces.   
  
The prison symbols that Finch etched on her underarm were there, as well, shining a pearly pink with healing scar tissue. Shepard regarded them for a moment, willing herself to face the phantom fear that made bile rise to her throat. She had never been as helpless as she had been in that basement. She never wanted to be that helpless again.   
  
There was a knock on the room's door, forcing Shepard to get to her feet gingerly. Solana was there, her eyes full of something like fear.  _ "Spirits, _ Shepard," Solana moaned, rushing toward her. She pulled Shepard into a crushing hug, her shoulder shaking. "We have been so worried. What in the world are you doing dressed and on your feet?  _ Spirits, _ girl, you should be resting! You scared us all. Kasumi, Thane, and Joker are here; Liara hasn't stopped pinging me…." she trailed off, pulling away and taking a shuddering breath.   
  
Shepard smiled, feeling a small twinge of regret. She was happy to see Solana, but it was a very different Vakarian she had wanted to talk to. "Thank you, Solana. I'm sorry to have worried everyone."   
  
Solana shook her head, running a hand over the small fringe cresting the front of her face. "Shepard, don't apologize. After everything you've been through…."   
  
"Where's Garrus?" Shepard finally asked, unable to take the suspense anymore. It seemed strange that he wasn't there waiting for her to open her eyes, to get released.   
  
There was a flicker of something that passed over Solana's face that made Shepard's heart stop. "Solana?"   
  
Solana took a deep breath. "Shepard."   
  
"What happened?" Shepard demanded, voice turning forceful.   
  
Solana looked away from her and murmured, "He was hurt. Shot. He's here, in the hospital."   
  
Shepard fell back onto the bed, her legs too weak to support her any longer. She couldn't fathom what she was hearing. He was the turian who took down Saren, who took a rocket to the face and was ready for action after only three days. He was the turian who made it out of the collector base unscathed after protecting all of the crew against death.   
  
"He's going to be okay, though," Shepard reasoned. "It's just… just a cosmetic thing? Just patching him up, and then he'll be released… right?"   
  
Solana would not meet her eyes. "He… Finch shot him in the throat. It was close range and…" Solana's voice was flanging heavily, "…there's a lot of damage, Shepard."   
  
"I want to see him," Shepard murmured.   
  
Solana shook her head vehemently. "No, Shepard. I don't think it's a good-"   
  
"I need to see him," she reiterated, meeting Solana's cool blue eyes.   
  
Solana swallowed sharply before nodding, reaching a hand out to take Shepard's. Shepard wasn't sure if Solana was trying to offer support, or if she was looking for it. Either way, Shepard wrapped her hand around Solana's and the pair left the room.   
  


* * *

 

The hardest part had been speaking with Garrus' mother. Shepard thought it was only fair to show her face to the Vakarian matriarch. As she sat at Idania's bedside, she expected the wrath and fury of a mother stripped of her child.   
  
Idania instead motioned Shepard closer and pulled the human into her arms, holding her close. "Don't fret, little one," Idania murmured softly against Shepard's hair. "He is strong. He will prevail."   
  
"I can't forgive myself… not for this," Shepard whispered, her throat attempting to seal itself off. The sight of Garrus laying in a hospital bed, strapped up to monitors… it had been the worst image Shepard had ever seen.   
  
"It is no more your fault than it is his," Idania shushed her. "You were in danger. And you mean more to my boy than anything else. Having you in danger is not something he is going to let happen if he can help it."   
  
Idania patted her hand as she pulled away. "You go on, now. Your crew is here if what Solana and Castis say is true. They need to see you strong and brave."   
  
Shepard nodded, taking another shaky breath. It seemed that breathing was the only thing she was able to do. Everything else was slipping away from her, everything besides the air in her lungs.   
  
The reunion with the few crew that was able to make it to Palaven was bittersweet. Kasumi hovered in an inconspicuous way; flitting behind her, making soft jokes to keep the mood light. Thane also took to tailing Shepard's every move, as if he was concerned she might be attacked by more Reds at any moment.   
  
Joker was surprisingly quiet through the whole ordeal, choosing to sit and watch vids with Solana or toss balls for Radi on the beach. Shepard was sorely reminded of Ashley's death and how reserved Joker had been after it.   
  
Liara was unable to make it to Palaven.  That didn't stop her from calling Shepard nightly - through Solana's omni-tool - to check in on Garrus' progress. Or lack of progress, Shepard hated to admit. He was still in an induced coma, still struggling for his life.   
  
One such night, while on a call with Liara, Shepard realized something. "Liara… did you ever get any information on the leader of the Reds?"   
  
Liara hesitated. "Everything I was able to dig up pinned Finch as the leader."   
  
Shepard's heart began to hammer in her chest. "Did you come across a woman? They called her Lark. I don't know about a real name. She must have been a street kid, said she was renamed by the group."   
  
"No, Shepard, there was no mention of a woman in anything I found," she admitted. Shepard could hear Liara's fingers flying across her terminal's keys, more than likely trying to find their mystery woman. "Everything on the Reds I can dig up are partials – nothing solid and nothing entirely there. From these documents… it sounds like it was only men."   
  
"Impossible," Shepard muttered, wracking her brain for something that might help identify the girl. "They all called her boss."   
  
"Where is she now?" Liara asked, still typing away.   
  
"I don't know," Shepard admitted. "She skipped out thirty minutes before Garrus got there. She said she was going to Omega."   
  
"Omega…." Liara hummed as the clicking of her fingers filled the room. "The only humans leaving Palaven en route to Omega… there are five possibilities, three females."  Shepard glanced across the table at Thane, Kasumi, and Solana who were listening intently. She raised an eyebrow, to which Kasumi shrugged.   
  
"What does she look like?" Liara asked suddenly, her tone clipped.   
  
Shepard wondered how best to phrase what she was about to say. She decided that beating around the bush was pointless and not her style. "She looks like me. Maybe twenty-five to twenty-eight; shorter hair, blonde, kind of spiky. Everything else is…pretty much the same as me Bone structure, eye color...."   
  
The line was silent for a few moments. Finally, Liara murmured, "I am sending you a picture. It's half a decade old, but... tell me if that's her."   
  
The picture came across her omni-tool almost instantly. Shepard pulled up the screen to be met with a beautiful young girl, no older than eighteen, smiling widely for the camera. Her hair was long and flowing in the picture, her eyes bright and makeup flawless. She looked picturesque and perfect, aside for the slightly mischievous Cheshire grin.   
  
There was no denying it was Lark.   
  
"That's her," Shepard confirmed. "She looks different now, but that’s definitely her."   
  
Liara took a shuddering breath and murmured, "Shepard… that is Priscilla Huerta; the daughter of Christopher Huerta.”

“Christopher Huerta?” Kasumi repeated.  “Wait.  Christopher Huerta,  president of the United North American States?"

“Yes,” Liara breathed.

"Holy shit balls," Kasumi exclaimed, looking stunned. She met Shepard's eyes and blurted, "What the hell are we going to do?"   
  
"We can't do anything," Shepard admitted, feeling her heart sink. "Not without proof. All we have to go on is my word, and who's going to believe me? I worked for Cerberus. And I was tortured for three days. They could push holes through my story left and right."   
  
"I'll keep tracking her," Liara said, tone hard. "She will slip up and I'll be right there when she does."

 

* * *

  
Shepard flicked through the vids on her omni-tool impatiently as she sat in the uncomfortable waiting room. She tried to spend as much time at the hospital as possible, but it was difficult when she wasn't even allowed in to see Garrus. So she busied herself with reading up on Priscilla Huerta.   
  
The girl had moved to Seattle for an advanced placement private school when she was fourteen, which explained how she was able to join up with the Reds. She had never been in trouble, according to her records. She was a classic case of a perfect child – smart, beautiful, and charitable. She had helped out at the local food banks on the weekends, for heaven's sake.   
  
And yet somehow she became a terrorist.   
  
"Jane Shepard?"   
  
Shepard looked up, broken out of her research by one of Garrus' doctors. She stood quickly, going to meet her. "Has there been progress?" she asked, trying to stifle the hope that flared inside of her.   
  
The doctor chuckled and her faceplates wiggled gently. "We've called his sister and father. He's awake. And he’s asking for you."   
  
Shepard practically flung herself down the hall and toward his room. She barreled through the door just in time to see Garrus attempting to reach a glass of water on his nightstand. He stopped when he saw her and wheezed out, "Thank the spirits you're alright."   
  
Shepard forced herself to remain calm as she went to his side, leaning down to gently hug him. He smelled like metal and medi-gel, and Shepard couldn't think of any sweeter scent at that moment. "You dumbass," she chided softly. "You had me so worried."   
  
"You know me," Garrus chuckled, voice flanging. His tone was rougher, thanks to the bullet which scraped across his trachea, but even more beautiful than Shepard remembered. "I can't help but ram my thick head into trouble." His arms encircled her gently, pulling her into him, pressing his face into her stomach.  "I can't even… I can't even begin to say how much you owe me. I've gotten shot on every damn vacation you've taken me on."   
  
Shepard snorted, trying to keep her laughter in check. It was a losing battle, however; she and Garrus were reduced to gales of laughter and, in Shepard's case, tears of relief.   



	14. Maybe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
>  **Chapter Warning:** Bittersweet everything.
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["Maybe," by Ingrid Michaelson.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FKU3UuJhIxU) Please enjoy!

The following week passed by in a blur. Kasumi dragged Shepard out to the local shopping mall more times than Shepard could count, forcing her to try on things Shepard would never, in her life, wear. Shepard admitted that it was a good way to pass time; acting like children and being shushed by employees. It made her forget that Garrus' vocal therapy was going slower than he'd like.   
  
As the pair sauntered through the well-lit food court, Kasumi sipping on a bubble tea that, in her option, tasted too turian-y, Shepard caught sight of a news vid in one of the shops. She stopped, drawn in, even while she wondered what had attracted her eye.   
  
And then there was Lark. She was wearing a wig or extensions because now her hair was long and flowing. She was dressed in a prim, baby-pink dress suit, her eyes shining like liquid emeralds.  "-the North American States extend our full cooperation to tracking down the former Alliance Commander, Jane Shepard. We agree that the acts against the Alliance, the Citadel, and the recent destruction of the Bahak system must be answered for. We implore all of our allies to contact either myself or Councilor Udina with any further information. Thank you."   
  
The screen cut to one of the news reporters, a lovely Asari with pink facial markings. "And there you have it, straight from the newly appointed UNAS Speaker of the House, Priscilla Huerta. We have contact information for both the Speaker and Councilor on the ticker at the bottom of your screen. Please keep vigilant and report anything you see."   
  
"We have to go," Kasumi whispered, rifling through one of her shopping bags. She produced a hood she had bought for one of her new outfits. She shoved it over Shepard's head and tugged her hand. "We have to get to Solana's house. You're not safe here."   
  
Shepard nodded numbly, her mind reeling. Destruction of the Bahak system? _ Councilor Udina? _ __  
  
What in the hell had happened since she was in the hospital?   
  


* * *

 

When they made it back to Solana’s, they were met with a house full of alarmed turians, a human and a drell. Castis pushed his way to Shepard, eyeing her critically. "I would normally let you defend yourself against your own race, but I cannot stand by when these… _ lies… _ perverse my son's life. I am calling Udina directly. You had nothing to do with the batarians-"   
  
"Wait, back up," Shepard began, still stunned. "What, exactly, happened? The Bahak system? Udina?"   
  
Solana made a thrumming noise deep in her throat, glancing over toward Thane and Joker. "Ten days ago while you were in the hospital…" Solana glanced over at Garrus, who was sitting stonily on the couch. "An Alliance scientist went missing in the Bahak system, presumably captured by batarians. A few days later, an asteroid hit the relay gate and… took the system out. Udina took Anderson's place with the Council to smooth relations and put out fires."   
  
"What does this have to do with me?" Shepard asked, feeling numb. "I had no part in any of this! I didn't even _know_ about it until now."   
  
"Because," Garrus growled gruffly, "you were sent an extranet message from Hackett, asking you to save the researcher to stop a potential war between the Alliance and batarians."   
  
"What?" Shepard asked, not even sure what she was asking. She leaned back against the wall, feeling like her brain was spinning in circles. "How… I don't even have my omni-tool anymore! The entire thing was ripped out of my arm," she reiterated, holding up her arm. The scar tissue glistened in the brightly lit room. To Castis, she murmured, "Can you make a call for me?" Castis' omni-tool interface was up and ready in an instant. "Admiral Hackett of the Alliance."   
  
"Shepard, there's nothing I can do for you," Hackett admitted. "I get it, you were in the hospital. You have footage and bills and all the proof I would need to get you out of this. But you still need to stand trial."   
  
"She didn't do anything!" Garrus yelled, his voice flanging and breaking in anger.   
  
"I know, and that's why we have over 300,000 dead batarians." There was silence over the line before Hackett continued, "It is going to be an easy fix to get you cleared of these charges, Shepard, but Bahak isn't the only thing this tribunal is about."   
  
Shepard closed her eyes. She should have known this was coming. She turned her back on the Citadel and the Alliance. She did it for the right reasons; she knew that deep in her heart. But all the good intentions in the world weren't going to help her against a military tribunal.   
  
"You're right."   
  
"What?" Garrus demanded, his eyes widening. "Shepard, you can't-"   
  
Shepard offered him a smile before glancing over at Castis. "I said I wouldn't blame them a bit for coming after me. I am not going to fight this. They have every right to take me in."   
  
"Shepard, please," Garrus began. Castis held a hand up, quieting his son.   
  
"Admiral… I am ready and willing to turn myself in to your men," Shepard said simply. "If permission is granted, I will leave all of my weapons and armor on the Normandy, to be done with as you see fit."   
  
Admiral Hackett did not respond for a moment. Finally, he returned, "Permission granted. I have patrols in the area; please be ready for transport at 1700 hours. The Normandy and any crew remaining will be taken to the Citadel and retrofitted."   
  
Shepard felt a lump forming in her throat. She ignored it and murmured, "Yes, sir."   
  


* * *

 

Garrus sat with her inside the captain's cabin. They had barely spoken, choosing instead to hold one another close wordlessly. Garrus was overcome by how completely unfair everything was; a point he wanted to blurt out continuously but kept silent.   
  
"I'm sorry," Shepard murmured finally.   
  
"For what? Being too moralistic?" Garrus tried to joke. His healing throat made it sound annoyed more so than amused.   
  
Shepard smiled anyway. "No, I won't apologize for that. But… I will apologize for everything before that. Dragging you down with me. Getting you involved with Saren, with the collectors." Garrus heard the tears in her words as she spoke. "Getting you shot on every vacation we take."   
  
Garrus chuckled, tightening his hold on her. "Don't you dare apologize. I would have hit you over the head until you agreed to let me help with Saren. And the collectors. And getting shot? Well, I would have preferred not to have that happen, but hey… you dig the scars."   
  
Shepard laughed, shaking her head. "You have such a way with words. It's like poetry."   
  
Garrus brushed a kiss over her forehead, murmuring, "Shepard… we don't have much time before…" he trailed off, seeming unsure what he wanted to say.   
  
Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Are you asking me to have sex with you right before I am clapped in irons?"   
  
"What? No, not that," he said quickly before running a hand over his face. "Spirits, am I that much of a pyjak, you'd think that's what I am about to say?"   
  
Shepard smiled, sitting up. "I might not be coming back."   
  
"Shepard-"   
  
"I might not," she repeated. "These tribunals… they aren't something to mess around with. Sure, I am going to get out of the Bahak incident. But they are going to strip me of my rank faster than you can say _demotion._ They are going to string this out for months, hell, maybe years. And then I might get life in jail, I might get executed."   
  
"Or you might be slapped on the hand and then discharged," Garrus interjected. "Shepard, you are a damned hero. They build statues for heroes, they don’t execute them."   
  
Shepard sighed, running a hand along his arm. "I  _ was  _ a hero. Now I am a traitor. For good reasons," she added when Garrus looked ready to bristle. "I wouldn't change the way things happened, even if I could. I would do everything the same way…everything," she added, leaning over to place a kiss on his nose ridge.   
  
“We can run,” he whispered, already knowing her answer.

“No, Garrus.  I can’t run from this.”

Garrus pulled her close, running his talons through her hair. "I can't lose you, Shepard. I can't do this again. Promise me you'll come back."   
  
Shepard closed her eyes, her lips meeting his in a gentle caress. She tugged his tunic off of him, followed by her shirt and bra.  Garrus quickly stood and removed his pants, pushing her back on the bed and pulling her bottom layers off.  Her hand was between his legs, stroking, his cock flaring to life, pressing into her hand.  

Without a word, she guided him inside of her.  He began moving against her slowly, watching her face, committing every inch of her to his memory.  If this was the last time he saw her….  He shook the thought away and leaned down, his mouth hovering above her lips.

“Promise me, Jane.”

Shepard smiled sadly.  Her eyes were wet with unshed tears as she caressed his mandibles, whispering, “"I'll come back, Garrus. If it is the last thing I do, I will come back to you."

 

* * *

 

1700 hours came and Shepard met the Alliance sentries without weapons, wearing only a pair of legging and a long-sleeved shirt. She had wanted to be fitted in her old Alliance blues; the ones that had been as much a part of her life as her armor. But, like the Normandy, her old uniform was just a reminder of what she used to have.   
  
Thane, Kasumi, Joker, and Garrus stood at her side. When asked if they were Alliance personal, every one of them answered _no._ Shepard raised an eyebrow at Joker, which earned her a nonchalant shrug. "What can I say? I was pissed when they grounded me. I might not have quit legally, but… I think they got the point when I stopped showing up."   
  
Shepard smiled half-heartedly. "I think they need a ride back to the Citadel, even though they aren't Alliance."   
  
"I'll stay here," Garrus spoke up. "The others are going, though."   
  
One of her captors nodded. "You are free to board our shuttle with us. We will come back for the Normandy with Admiral Hackett." He then turned to Shepard, looking apologetic, and took out a pair of handcuffs. "Shepard, I would rather not use these."   
  
Shepard nodded. "I would rather not have them used. I will go peacefully." She watched as he put them back on his belt with relief before turning back to her former crew. "Be good. Don't cause too much trouble."   
  
"When you get a new omni-tool, let us know," Kasumi spoke up, handing her a slip of paper. On it, identifiers were listed next to a long list of names. Crew members' names. "That's all I could scrounge up for now," Kasumi continued. "I'll get you everyone else's once you have a new console. Keep in touch – oh, and burn that paper after you save the numbers," Kasumi added, winking. "I'd rather not have random people tracking me down."   
  
Shepard nodded, reaching out to hug the girl. She came willingly, whispering, "If you ever need a jailbreak, just ping me. I can have you out of there in no time."   
  
Shepard laughed, pulling away. She went to Thane, who pulled her into a hug of his own. "Arashu watch over and protect you," he said demurely. "You will be in my prayers, siha."   
  
Shepard turned to Garrus. They had already said their goodbyes, but she wasn’t sure that any goodbye would ever be enough. "Shepard… I have so many things I need to say."   
  
Shepard rose up on her tiptoes, kissing him one last time. "Save them for when I get out," she murmured, her smile serene. She turned away from him, stepping over to where the Alliance soldiers waited.   
  
One of them reached out and gently took her shoulder, navigating her toward their ship. Shepard was complacent and allowed herself to be steered. The soldier glanced over at her before saying in an undertone, "I’m sorry. A lot of us agree with what you did. You saved colonies. You saved lives. I don't feel this is a fitting end for that."   
  
"It's not over until it's over," Shepard said simply. She didn't look back.


End file.
